


Handle With Care

by Jadzia7667



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, M/M, Mpreg, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-29
Updated: 2005-11-10
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10064159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia7667/pseuds/Jadzia7667
Summary: Breakups can be rough...on at least one party.





	1. Part One - Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Title: Handle With Care  
Pairing: HP/SS, HP/DM  
Warnings: language, sexual situations, slash of course, emotional trauma, angst, possible Mpreg, ok probably Mpreg in part two.  
Rating: NC-17, probably  
Summary: Severus, in a moment of careless cruelty, destroys the one thing he’s always needed most. Can he get it back? 

A/N: Oceans of gratitude to my writing partner, Laura – she’s as twisted as I am and came up with some lovely plot devices to get this story where it wanted to go. She’s generally horrified by some of my ‘what ifs’ but always listens and makes suggestions that I find valuable. 

This particular story was supposed to be merely a backwards look at another story I read (one where Harry wasn’t allowed to move his things out when he tried to), but the Muse had other plans for it. Sigh…Malevolentia (my muse) is a sneaky, snarky bitch, always twisting things ‘round for me. She wants me to write canon accurate Snape; when I do, he comes out a completely selfish and deluded bastard.

Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re JKR’s. They should be mine. They want to be mine. However, they’re hers. I just have sordid rendezvouses (how do you add the suffix that means more than one rendezvous??) with ‘em from time to time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part One

“Remus!” Harry pounded on the door to Remus’ chambers, yelling his name repeatedly. Finally, the door opened and a sleepy looking werewolf appeared.

“Harry? What time is it?” Harry snorted and pushed past the older man. His face was parchment white, his eyes huge pools of wounded green in his shocked face.

“I don’t know. It’s late. Can I sleep on your couch tonight, please? Just till the house elves can get my new rooms ready tomorrow?” Harry slumped down on said couch, looking utterly defeated.

“Of course you can. What’s wrong? Did you leave him or did he leave you?” Remus was sympathetic, but not surprised. Harry Potter and Severus Snape as a romantic couple was probably the most unlikely pairing Remus could think of.

Harry looked up at him sadly. “I left him. I’m not going back. You were right. Everyone was right. He’s a bastard. It’s over. I never want to see him again.” Harry closed his eyes wearily, raking a hand through his hair. He was clearly agitated and desperately unhappy.

Remus sat next to him, patting his shoulder awkwardly. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” The single word uttered in the soft tones of deepest despair was the saddest thing Remus had ever heard.

“All right. I’ll get you some blankets.” Remus summoned blankets and pillows, tucked Harry in, and left him to grieve. He’d find out what was going on in the morning, one way or another. Remus thought to himself that he’d never seen Harry look so broken before.

The young man stared blankly into the fire for a long time before falling into a restless slumber. The damaging words of his ex partner rang out in his memory, becoming more intense and hurtful with each remembering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Downstairs in the dungeons, Severus Snape was having himself a royal hissy fit indeed. He paced. He swore. He swooped dramatically, just so he could feel his robes snapping around him. He waited for Harry to come back, so that Severus could make a grudging apology and they could have make up sex. 

When the sun came fully up over the horizon several hours later, Severus finally figured out that Harry wasn’t coming back. At least, not right away. He sighed heavily. Right, then. He settled himself down at his desk to plan his groveling. Surely some judicious groveling would bring the little whelp back to him. Who else was going to mark the first year essays while he ran his experiments? Who else was going to soothe him to sleep with excellent sex? 

Severus sighed to himself; he knew it was going to take a lot of abject sincerity to make up for the awful, terrible things he’d said last night. He hadn’t meant any of them, not really. He didn’t know why he’d said them. He didn’t know what on earth he was going to do if Harry really wasn’t coming back. Who else would put up with his sarcastic, cranky bastard ways? 

He sighed heavily, pondering the situation. He didn’t have much experience with abject and sincere apologies; he’d learned over the past ten months that it was simply easier to guard his tendency to fling out the first insult that came to mind rather than injure his partner’s feelings on a daily basis. His life ran much more smoothly when Harry wasn’t nursing injured feelings. He loved Harry as much as he was able; he simply wasn’t accustomed to being concerned with the feelings of another person on a regular basis. It had been quite the eye opening life lesson for Severus, beginning a relationship with Harry. He’d simply lost his temper last night; surely Harry could see that it was natural, and forgive him for it.

Harry was the only person who didn’t try to change Severus, to attempt to make him more socially acceptable. Harry seemed to enjoy his scathing wit. Harry seemed to love Severus just the way he was. He didn’t seem to mind that they never went anywhere. He didn’t seem to mind that Severus didn’t really make any effort towards including Harry in his life. He just shoved over with a grunt, as was his nature.

Severus in turn loved Harry for himself, not his fame, his past, or his accomplishments, past or present. He knew it simply wouldn’t do for the brat to be overly impressed with himself, so Severus made sure he was never impressed either. He behaved as he always had, with the addition of sexual relations. That had seemed to be enough for the boy. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Harry had never been gone this long after one of their fights.

He shook himself briskly; everything would be all right, as soon as he unbent and apologized. Severus knew they were well suited and he was confident that he could correct this problem with his partner. If they were not well suited, why would Severus have been so…content…for the past ten months? Dammit. He swore silently to himself. He was going to need advice from someone more experienced than he in matters of the heart. 

The familiar crack of apparition in the next room sent hope rising in his breast. Perhaps Harry was going to make it easier on him. He should have known better, really; people couldn’t apparate inside Hogwarts, he knew that. He strode into the bedroom, an apology already forming on his lips. His hopes were dashed in the next second. It wasn’t Harry at all. Instead, that maniacal house elf of his was calmly packing all of Harry’s things. The elf turned at Severus’ entrance and regarded him sternly.

“Master Harry is telling Dobby to remove his things from Mister Snape’s quarters at once. Mister Snape will not be interfering.” The house elf had a ferocious gleam in his overlarge eyes; Severus backed up quickly, afraid the house elf intended to do him harm. He’d never been afraid of a house elf before. It was a disconcerting feeling, but he knew how devoted Dobby was to Harry.

Severus stopped in the doorway, leaning against it wearily. “Please tell Master Harry that I deeply regret the terrible things I said. Please tell him I’d like to see him when he is ready.”

Dobby paused again, fixing that unnerving stare on the older man. “Master Harry is telling Dobby he will not be seeing Mister Snape any longer.” Without another word, he turned back to his task, neatly folding shirts and shorts, robes and socks into Harry’s trunk. Severus could only watch him.

Dobby sent the full trunk off…somewhere. Severus didn’t know where. He ventured to ask and was rewarded with that strangely intent and malevolent stare from the elf. Dobby didn’t even bother to answer him. A few moments later, bedroom emptied of everything that was Harry’s, the elf moved into the study they both had shared for the better part of a year. 

Harry’s desk, piled with books and papers, was vanished at once. Books flew off the shelves that covered every inch of the four walls, stacking themselves neatly into boxes, which were vanished as they became full. The room took on a strangely empty air, even though it was as full of Severus’ things as it had been before Harry had moved in. Severus trailed Dobby like a ghost as he completed Master Harry’s instructions. He asked again, “Will Master Harry be staying in the castle?” A long pause. “Please, Dobby, tell me.”

The house elf stopped and regarded Severus closely. “Master Harry is telling Dobby not to speak to you any more than necessary to move his things. Dobby has never heard Mister Snape say please before. Three times. Master Harry has new quarters in the castle. Dobby does not know how long Master Harry will be staying.” With that, the elf resumed his silent efficiency. Study stripped of Harry’s presence, the elf moved into the sitting room.

He packed much less here; two pairs of boots and Harry’s winter cloak that was hanging near the front door, a pair of gloves that lay on the table, Harry’s favorite hot chocolate mug. The elf moved around the room, gathering the things that Harry had brought with him, and only the things Harry had brought with him when they’d moved in together. More precisely, when Severus had allowed Harry to move into his quarters, and had grudgingly made room for his things. He began to see the enormity of the mistakes he’d made with Harry, right from the beginning. 

Severus’ quarters were not _their_ quarters. He’d made no effort to compromise, other than giving up some of his privacy. He’d simply made some room for the other man, and allowed him to fill it as best he could. He hadn’t helped mesh their lives together; he hadn’t given an inch he didn’t have to. He’d in fact resented every inch of space that Harry had occupied. He’d made that clear in a thousand ways, subtle and not so subtle. 

The house elf deliberately avoided the broom, gloves, and Quidditch ball set that Severus had gotten Harry for his birthday. Severus cleared his throat. “Aren’t you going to pack his Quidditch gear?”

The elf didn’t answer for a moment. “Master Harry told Dobby he will be buying new gear. Master Harry told Dobby that he only wanted his own things. Dobby was told to leave behind any of Mister Snape’s gifts to Master Harry.”

Ouch. That hurt. He sank heavily into his favorite armchair, turning to press his face into the upholstery. Harry was obviously deeply hurt and angry and was not planning on forgiving Severus anytime soon. He sat wearily, wondering what on earth he was going to do. Flowers? Harry didn’t really like them, he thought. Chocolates? Harry loved them, but was that really an appropriate way to express one’s desperate remorse? He sat for a long time, trying to think of ways to get Harry back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several floors up and at the opposite end of the castle, Harry was arranging his new rooms efficiently. He’d gone to the Headmaster first thing that morning and starkly explained that he needed his own rooms. He was brief, and there was a noticeable lack of detail in his explanation. The twinkle in the old man’s eyes was noticeably absent as he listened to Harry. “I’ve left the old git. I need new rooms, please. Far away from his.”

“Of course. I’ll have the elves get started immediately. Where would you like them?” The old man was worried about his young protégé; Harry looked as though he hadn’t slept at all the previous night. There was a wounded air about him. His green eyes were dull and lifeless.

“I suppose rather closer to my classroom and the other teachers. Are there rooms available in the same corridor Remus lives in?” The old man nodded, snapped his fingers, and issued instructions to the house elf that appeared in response. “Thank you, Sir. This…change…in my personal life will not affect my ability to teach.” Harry was the DADA Professor and had been for several years.

Albus hoped that this difficulty didn’t mean he’d be looking for a new teacher for the next year. “I didn’t think that it would, Harry. I do think, however, that under the circumstances, you are to be excused from this afternoon’s staff meeting.” Albus was sympathetic and wanted to hug the younger man, but refrained. Harry wasn’t comfortable with such overt displays of affection.

Harry’s eyes widened. “I’d forgotten about that. Thank you, Sir. I need a little time, the rest of the weekend, at least.”

“Come, my boy. Let me show to your new rooms. They are guarded by a portrait of Merlin himself; you need only decide on a password and cast your personal wards on the place.” Harry chuckled grimly.

“I’m only going to exclude one person specifically, so that’s only one extra spell to do.” The two men, one very old, one very young, stopped in front of Merlin’s portrait. Albus introduced the painting to Harry, who nodded politely.

“It’s a pleasure, Sir. Make the password ‘betrayal’; that’s fitting enough. I’ll change it once a month or so, I’d imagine.” Merlin nodded gravely and the painting swung aside, revealing a rather unprepossessing door that blended nicely into the stone walls. Albus tapped it three times in the center and led the way inside.

The small apartment was perfect for one person; cozy and warm, with large windows on either side of the fireplace that took up half the outer wall. The sitting room had a small kitchen area off to one side, with room for a table and chairs. It was easily large enough to serve as Harry’s study as well. The bathroom was rather larger than Harry was accustomed to, but very nicely appointed. The bedroom was small, but perfect for Harry’s needs. It had two windows with wide window seats. Harry had missed windows very much while living in the dungeons.

Harry surprised Albus, and let him know just how emotionally devastated the young man really was, when he hugged the older man fiercely, thanking him for his help. Albus patted his back awkwardly for a few moments, trying to give comfort as best he could.

“Harry.” The wily old man couldn’t stand to see his favorite former pupil so upset. “Don’t you think it might be helpful for you to at least talk to Severus?” 

Albus was surprised again when Harry’s eyes took on the hot light of utter rage. His voice, when it emerged from his throat, was low and steely with anger. “No. There is nothing to talk about. He said…” Harry broke off, clearly not wanting to inflict his personal life on his employer.

Albus smiled encouragingly. “It’s all right, Harry. You can tell me. I promise not to interfere.”

Harry smiled again, less grimly. He knew the Headmaster liked nothing better than to meddle in the lives of those he cared for. Shoulders set and voice tense, he stepped away from the comforting embrace and turned to face his mentor. “He said he didn’t love me. He loved the idea of fucking me, because he knew it would enrage Sirius and my father. He felt it was a sort of cosmic retribution that was due him. He laughed at the idea of them rolling in their graves. Then he said it was a pity that Sirius didn’t even have a grave, so he could stand over it and gloat. I left right after that.”

Albus sucked in a short sharp breath of near horror. He knew Severus was carelessly cruel, even to those he loved. He knew the man was sarcastic and bitter. He hadn’t realized that Severus was quite that sadistic and he said as much to Harry.

Harry’s barked out laugh was anything but mirthful. “I don’t know why. You all warned me against getting involved with him. You all warned me it would end badly. I should have listened.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was nothing Albus could say to that, so he didn’t try. He called Dobby to Harry’s new quarters. The house elf stood patiently, awaiting instructions from the Headmaster. “Please help Harry furnish these rooms, Dobby. He may have anything he wants from the castle storage areas. He’ll need to get his things from Professor Snape’s quarters too.”

The old man was furious with the Potions Master and heartbroken for Harry. He knew that Harry had loved the older man deeply. He didn’t know if their relationship would survive this blow, or if Harry would allow it, but he didn’t think so. With a final pat on Harry’s back and a murmured “Let me know if you need anything else, my boy,” he was gone.

Albus sat in his office for a long while, answering his correspondence and thinking about the sad state of affairs that existed between his two favorite young men. Near lunchtime, he left his office, headed to the Great Hall. As expected, Harry wasn’t there. He sat next to Severus, his expression bland. The younger man regarded him sourly.

“Aren’t you going to chastise me, Albus? Of course, I am the villain in this piece.” The tone was sarcastic, as it usually was. The expression in Severus’ eyes belied his words. He knew he’d done wrong and clearly wanted some reassurance that things would be all right. Albus couldn’t give it to him.

“Why would I do that, Severus? You’ve finally driven the boy away from you. Isn’t that what you wanted? You already know you’ve behaved reprehensibly; you don’t need me to point it out to you.” The benign twinkle was again absent from the old man’s eyes as he regarded the Potions Master.

“What? Of course I didn’t intend to drive him away.” The narrow shoulders slumped. The lines on Severus’ face were deeply etched this day. His eyes were empty as he looked around, trying to catch sight of Harry so he could begin to repair the damage to their relationship. “Where is he?”

Albus’ tone was stern. “He is likely in his quarters, casting his wards and furnishing his rooms. He will not be at the staff meeting today. I wanted to give him time enough to get settled so that he can teach without distraction on Monday.”

Severus sighed in relief. At least the brat wasn’t planning on leaving Hogwarts anytime soon. Perhaps he could make it up to him, somehow. “He sent that mad house elf to remove all of his things from our quarters.” His tone was defeated and sad.

Albus regarded the younger man seriously. “They were always your quarters, Severus, never did they appear to belong to both of you.”

Severus whispered, “I know. I’ve made many mistakes, Albus. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’m going to manage without him.”

Albus was not sympathetic. “You should have thought of that before you hurt him so badly.”

There was no more conversation between them. None was needed. Severus knew, if he was going to win Harry back, Albus wasn’t going to help him this time. 

Snape caught Remus’ eye after the staff meeting ended. “Remus, could I have a word, please?” The werewolf and Care of Magical Creatures Professor nodded warily.

“How is he?”

Remus’ amber eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why do you care? You’ve done enough damage. He told me he wants to be left alone. I’m leaving him alone until he’s ready to talk. He made it clear when he appeared at my door that he didn’t want to talk about it. What did you do?”

Severus’ heart sank. An uncommunicative Harry was a very bad sign. Harry only shut down and refused to talk for the very deepest of hurts. “I said some terrible things in the midst of an argument. Things I didn’t mean. Please, if you see him, tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I’d like to see him, to make it up to him.”

Remus was shaking his head. “Tell him yourself, if you can. He’s told me he doesn’t want to see you and won’t speak to you. He said it’s over. He said everyone was right and he never should have gotten involved with you. I’m certainly not going to tell him differently. You’re a vicious bastard, Snape. If you ever hurt him again, I’ll…” Remus left the threat unfinished and stalked out of the room, leaving a shuddering Severus Snape to attempt to compose himself.

Some time later, he was leaving the staffroom, walking painfully slowly. He was feeling his remorse in every tensed muscle of his body. As he turned down the corridor that led to the dungeons, he heard a commotion at the front doors. 

Ron and Hermione Weasley were standing there, talking to each other and to Remus while stamping snow from their boots. Severus shrank back into the shadows, wanting to hear them.

Ron’s voice was first, “Remus! Good to see you, old man. Where’s Harry?”

Remus answered, “He’s in his rooms. I’ll take you to them.”

Hermione’s voice, harder to hear, soft with concern. “He’s not still in the dungeons with Professor Snape?”

A pause. Hermione spoke again. “Oh no, Remus. What happened? Did they argue?”

Ron’s voice again. “I hope he’s left the greasy bastard. Harry can do better. He deserves better.”

Another pause, punctuated with murmurs he couldn’t quite make out. Then Ron’s voice again, loud and outraged. “What a git. Harry didn’t say what had happened, just that he wanted to see us.” 

Remus’ voice, an air of sadness about it. “He’s not doing well, really. He seems determined, though. Snape hasn’t tried to see him, hasn’t tried to apologize. Nothing.”

The three friends moved off, up the south staircase and beyond. Snape didn’t try to follow them. He had an apology to write. Perhaps Remus was trying to help him, in his fashion. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took the normally well spoken and eloquent man over an hour to compose the short apology he finally regarded with satisfaction. It was brief, but rather heartfelt, he thought with some satisfaction. He rolled it up and tied a red ribbon around it. He hoped Harry would see the significance in his using red ribbon, for passion, instead of his usual green.

He thought a moment longer. He needed something to go with it. He needed to show Harry how very sorry he was. After a moment, he transfigured some roses from one of the vines growing in his lab. One white, for eternal love. One yellow, for faithfulness. One red, for passionate love. He tied them together with another bit of red ribbon and handed both to his raven.

“Deliver these to Harry Potter. Wait for an answer.” With that, Severus set about putting his lab in order and waiting for a response. An hour later, his raven had still not returned. With an impatient sigh, Severus set about brewing the bruise balm that Poppy needed in the Infirmary. When it was complete, it was nearly dinner time. His raven had still not returned.

He found out why when he entered the Great Hall for the evening meal. His raven was perched at his usual seat. Harry was nowhere in sight. The note and roses were still tied to the raven’s leg. With a sigh, he untied them and sent her off to his quarters to eat and rest. Evidently, Harry wasn’t going to accept anything from him or his raven.

He ate mechanically, wracking his brain for a way to force Harry to at least read what he had to say. As he finished up, it finally occurred to him. Pushing away from the table, he headed for Harry’s classroom. He placed the note and the roses on Harry’s desk and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry opened the door in response to Hermione’s soft knock. He ushered his friends inside and before he knew it, he was sobbing in ‘Mione’s arms, pouring out the whole sordid story to them both while Ron awkwardly rubbed his back. He hated this as much as he needed it. Harry could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he’d cried since he was eleven. 

The first time, of course, was in the Headmaster’s office after Sirius had died. He didn’t think anyone knew about that, though. Nobody had seen the tears spill. The second time had been at Dumbledore’s ‘funeral’ and he was pretty sure nobody had seen that, either. The third time was when he killed Voldemort and those were tears of relief, so they didn’t really count, did they? The fourth time had been two years ago, when Hermione and Ron’s first child was born. They’d asked him to be there in the delivery room with them, they’d asked him to be the baby’s godfather and he’d accepted joyfully, loving the little girl from the moment he looked into her tiny eyes. Her birth sparked a fierce desire in him to have a family of his own.

He supposed that desire was what drove him to Snape in the first place. He wanted someone to take care of and someone to take care of him. He’d found the former, but certainly not the latter, he thought with an internal snort of disgust. He was quivering now, hiccupping out his grief in the circle of the two people who meant the most to him.

Severus Snape was a man who needed caring for; there was no doubt about that. In the beginning, Harry had found it satisfying to make sure the man ate properly and slept reasonably and didn’t spend hours hunched over a potion instead of relaxing with his lover. He’d found the sex reasonably satisfying, and he knew he could persuade Snape out of the lab and into the bedroom with little effort. He never quite figured out that they’d both used sex to avoid emotional intimacy rather than create it within their relationship. Not until recently, anyway. 

Harry knew beyond all doubt that Snape didn’t love him, had never loved him, would never love him. The fact that he could say the things he’d said highlighted this unpleasant truth, throwing it into sharp relief against the ruins of Harry’s emotional life. He said as much to his friends.

Ron was indignant. “He couldn’t possibly have found himself a better partner, Harry. It’s you whose been shortchanged all this time. He doesn’t deserve you. I saw, we both saw, how hard you tried to make it work.” Hermione nodded her agreement.

Harry could only look at them and agree. He saw things more clearly now. He didn’t want to, but he did. Ron clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon, mate. We’re taking you out to dinner in Hogsmeade. A change of scenery will do you good; take your mind off things.” Harry nodded and allowed himself to be led away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They ended up at The Three Broomsticks for pub food and butterbeer. Ron and Hermione tried desperately to distract their friend, but it seemed impossible. Then the musical entertainment started. Harry was fascinated by the hard driving beat of the band Madame Rosmerta had hired. They were playing music that seemed to soothe Harry’s spirit, even as it pulsed with pain and ferocity.

Harry was standing at the bar, having volunteered to get the next round when the voice hissed in his ear. It sent shivers of repressed desire dancing up and down his spine; that voice always had, for ten years, since he was seventeen.

“Fancy meeting you here, Harry. It’s been a long time.” It had, in fact, been six months since Harry had last seen Draco Malfoy. Harry turned around to face the blond man and caught his breath. Draco looked good. Very good.

His silvery blonde hair was long as his father’s had been, and was caught back in a black leather tie that hugged the nape of his neck. His silvery eyes were just as mesmerizing now as they had been during their seventh year. His perfect porcelain skin was flushed a sweet pastel peach from the close heat of the crowded room. Harry swayed forward involuntarily and sniffed. Draco still smelled the same, of patchouli and musk, amber and woodsy smoke. Harry’s eyes raked Draco up and down; the other man was just as toned and firm as ever, his lithe body clothed in skin tight leather trousers and a pale blue silk poet’s shirt that left little to the imagination. Over this he was wearing casual but expensive silk robes in a dark charcoal color. He was beautiful. Harry wanted to drool, but stopped himself.

Their last meeting had not gone well, and Harry still didn’t know why. He’d thought they were friends of a sort, particularly in seventh year when they’d worked so closely together to defeat Voldemort and his forces. Once they left school, Draco was busy overseeing the Malfoy estate and its holdings, learning to run things without the benefit of his father’s experience. They’d still managed to have lunch together once or twice a month, and met for drinks at the pub now and again. 

All that had changed six months ago, however. Harry wanted to know why more than anything in the world. Six months ago, Draco had breezed into Hogwarts to pay a visit to his godfather, Severus Snape, and been told that Severus and Harry were living together.

He’d thrown an inexplicable temper tantrum and demanded that Harry leave the premises so he could speak to his godfather in private. Harry hastily exited. He never did find out what the two had talked about; when he returned several hours later, Draco was gone. Severus was tight lipped and paler than usual, but said they’d not have to worry about Draco interrupting them anytime soon. Then Severus had taken him to bed and he’d nearly forgotten the younger man’s visit.

When Harry spoke, his voice took on a rather sultry tone. “Draco. Nice to see you again. Slumming?” Harry smirked.

The blond flushed, eyes flashing dangerously. “No. You? I suppose my sainted godfather is here as well?”

The smirk left Harry’s face, leaving behind a shuttered expression devoid of any emotion. “Actually, no he’s not. I left him this morning. Ron and Hermione are over there.” He gestured. “They thought I needed to be distracted.” A long slow look out of burning green eyes. Draco shivered and felt hot everywhere those eyes touched him.

His voice was rougher than he’d intended it. “You’ve left him? Congratulations. You look quite…distracting this evening, Harry.” Draco’s eyes burned, fiery quicksilver in his pale face, as he gazed once more at the man he’d been crushing on since their seventh year. That was a very long time ago, and Draco was surprised to see that his feelings hadn’t really changed with the passing of years. Harry was wearing a simple silk tee shirt in a green that matched his eyes, casual khakis that hugged his hips and thighs like a lover would, and simple amber robes in the same silk that Draco’s robes were made of.

Harry shivered as that intense storm tossed gaze raked his body. Madame Rosmerta came back with the round of butterbeers he’d ordered and he picked them up. “Join us?” It was both invitation and demand. Mutely, Draco accepted his own drink from the bartender and followed Harry to the table.

The other occupants greeted him stiffly. Conversation was stilted for a moment, then flowed easier as the other two realized Draco wasn’t here to belittle or berate them. He asked after their health, their jobs, and talked a bit about his own, obviously making an attempt at being charming. It worked, for the most part. Ron would never be close with him, but Hermione was glad to see Draco, at least. She hadn’t missed the heated looks passing between the two men. 

He took advantage of Harry’s next trip to the bar to lean over and ask them, “What the hell happened? Harry looks as though he’s lost his best friend. As you two are still here, I can only assume Severus dumped him.”

Ron shook his head. “No. Harry left Snape, not the other way ‘round. He told us what happened, but I don’t think he’d want us to repeat it. Look, Draco…” He stopped, and bit his lip, his ears turning red.

Hermione took up where Ron couldn’t. “Be kind to him, all right? He’s devastated. I know you two aren’t really close, but…be kind, if you can.”

Draco nodded slowly. What had happened? The last time he’d seen Harry, the idiot had been so besotted over the benighted bastard that was his godfather, it had driven Draco into an inexplicable fury. He’d shouted for Harry to leave them be. As soon as Harry had left, he’d lit into the older man with a furious anger that had shocked them both. He’d warned Severus not to hurt Harry. 

Draco knew Severus managed to hurt and drive away everyone that ever tried to love him. He hadn’t wanted it to happen to Harry. He’d threatened seven kinds of hell if Severus screwed up the relationship he’d been blessed with. Then he’d stared him down and assured him that if he did hurt Harry, he would not get him back. Draco would personally see to it. Then he’d left, still vibrating with outrage.

With a sigh, he threw an unreadable look brimming with emotion at Harry’s sidekicks. “I won’t hurt him. I will behave myself. He doesn’t need any complications right now. We are, perhaps, closer than you think, although I have not seen him recently, I admit. Oh, one other thing.” He bent closer to the couple on the other side of the table, eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light of the pub. “I will _destroy_ Severus Snape, godfather or no, if he’s hurt Harry beyond repair.”

Ron and Hermione looked rather startled at that, Draco noted smugly. Draco was rather surprised himself, but he wasn’t going to let those two know it. Harry returned just then with a round of strong dark ale and Draco stood, bowing slightly .He helped Harry back into his chair and turned to face him.

Draco noted that Harry’s hands were trembling around the mug of ale. A tendril of fury raced through his bloodstream. Harry was never this vulnerable, ever. Abruptly, he turned to look at the raven haired, hard bodied man beside him, then tugged at his free hand. “Dance with me.” 

Harry stood mutely and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor. A hard, driving beat echoed around them and they began to move flawlessly together. Their bodies brushed against one another from time to time, sending lightning shocks directly into their skin and igniting a mutual desire. 

Draco was shocked at how much he wanted the other man. He chanced a look into Harry’s eyes and found them burning with a fire that warmed him to his toes. When the music changed to something softer, he wordlessly pulled Harry closer to him and they began to sway together.

Breathless, Harry’s voice whispered in his ear. “What was that for?” He sounded genuinely curious, and just a little tipsy.

Draco set his lips to the delectable ear in front of him and replied, “You looked like you needed to work off some energy. I thought I’d give you an outlet.”

Harry breathed a chuckle into his ear, causing him to shudder. “Oh…I have lots of energy to work off, Draco. Are you going to help me with all of it?” The last words were punctuated with a deliberate thrust of Harry’s hips into Draco’s groin. He gasped and shuddered once more.

Harry leaned into Draco, enjoying the proximity of the man he’d harbored a crush on for years. He wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. After what had happened less than twenty four hours before, he was uncertain of his own appeal. The need brimming in Draco’s eyes disabused him of any lack of sexiness he was feeling. The blond clearly wanted at least his body.

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and held on. He saw the want in Harry’s eyes clearly enough. He saw hints of other things too. He wondered if they could perhaps find something more than a quick shag in a pub. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince and arrogant pureblood, was uncertain of how to proceed. He decided to let Harry set the pace and tone of their encounter. After all, Harry was the traumatized one, not himself. 

This turned out to be a smart decision on Draco’s part. Before he could properly catch his breath, he found himself being kissed senseless by the Gryffindor in his arms. Dry, hesitant lips touched his, slid over his. Then a hot tongue was sliding across his bottom lip, demanding entrance. Draco happily granted it, sucking that tongue deeply into his mouth, hanging onto it for dear life. He knew he might never have this opportunity again and he resolved to relish everything that was offered to him.

Harry was moaning in approval; they were all but motionless on the dance floor, bodies pressed so closely together that they appeared to be one person. Draco tilted his head, taking control of the kiss, and slid his tongue into Harry’s mouth, to map and explore every inch of the delectable moist heat that was on offer.

The slow slide of lips on lips, tongue battling tongue, set Draco’s blood to boiling, and caused him to emit an answering groan into Harry’s mouth. Panting, the two broke apart several moments later for much needed oxygen. Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and led him off the dance floor just as forcefully as he’d led him to it. As foggy as his mind was, he knew he had to appease Harry’s friends or face their wrath at some point. 

Draco didn’t want to face their wrath. Moreover, he wanted them to know his intentions were mostly honorable. He sat down and pulled Harry into his lap. The other wizard promptly curled himself around Draco, wrapping his arms around Draco’s shoulders and waist to steady himself. 

Draco took a deep breath and pushed his arousal away. “Harry. Look at me.” He spoke clearly, so the Weasleys could hear him. They were both thankfully silent from shock.

“If you want to stop, say so, and I’ll leave you alone. Be warned. If you tell me to stop now, I will, but I _will_ see you again. Soon.” He brushed a gentle kiss across Harry’s forehead, trying to convey some of the protectiveness and tenderness he was feeling.

Harry pulled back a little, gazing intently into the silvery eyes above him. He didn’t speak for several long moments. Evidently, what he saw in Draco’s eyes satisfied him, because when he did speak, his voice was warm with expectation and lush with desire.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were seventeen. I won’t lie. I’m grieving still. The last day has been…difficult…” Harry’s voice broke. He took a deep breath and steadied it. “It’s completely over between us. I don’t want you to stop, all right?” He tilted his head up and kissed Draco rather chastely on the lips. “I want to see you again, too.”

Draco smiled and stroked Harry’s hair gently. Ron and Hermione still hadn’t said a word. Hermione’s glance raked sharply over Draco. With a nod, she turned to her husband.

“I think we’d better go, Ron. The babysitter won’t want to stay much later. Draco can see Harry home.” Ron’s mouth fell open; Draco almost laughed.

Hermione turned back to the couple. “We’ll see you soon, Harry. Let us know if you need us.” She directed her gaze to Draco. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Draco.” Her eyes flashed a warning; he lifted his chin slightly and met her gaze steadily.

“A good evening to you both,” he said politely. Harry wriggled, got up to hug them both, then settled himself on Draco’s lap again. The warm weight of the body in his arms made him flush all over. Harry kissed him again, and it was as thunderous as the first time. Draco felt waves crashing behind his closed eyes. Mountains moved, worlds collided and Draco’s world tilted on its axis.

When they came up for air again, Harry moved off his lap, taking the chair next to him and twining their hands together as they drank deeply of the nutty rich tasting ale in front of them. They alternately drank and danced for several hours, sitting at the table and catching up on the details of one another’s lives when they were in need of a break from the over warm and tightly packed dance floor. Like moths to each other’s flames, though, they were always drawn back to the floor, so they could press tightly against one another.

It was near three in the morning when they finally left, both stumbling a little, both gasping as the cool night air hit their overheated flesh. Draco snaked an arm around Harry’s waist and they moved slowly up the path towards the school. They were both drunk, not overly intoxicated by the alcohol, but spinning dizzily, entranced by the proximity of the other. When they reached the gates of Hogwarts grounds, Harry stopped, leaning heavily against them. 

Draco pressed himself flush against Harry’s body, kissing him deeply. His hands came up to frame Harry’s face, caressing his jaw gently. He slid his tongue into Harry’s mouth once more, aching for more contact. Harry’s arms wrapped themselves around the slender former Seeker’s still lithe body, one hand cupping his arse, the other grasping at his shoulder as he tried to prevent himself from slumping into a puddle of sensation at Draco’s feet.

One firm thigh insinuated itself between Harry’s own rock hard thighs and rubbed. Harry gasped and tore his lips away from Draco’s. Wide eyed, he stared glassily at the blond, eyes dazed with lust and something more. His whispered, “Stay with me?” was all the invitation Draco needed.

He stepped back, took Harry’s hand, and they opened the small caretaker’s gate quietly. It squeaked a little, and they both froze, as though they were students caught out after curfew again. They looked at each other and chuckled just a little. They were grown men now, no curfew to hinder them. Harry pulled Draco through the gate and shut it firmly behind them. He leaned forward to kiss Draco gently once more, stroking his fingers softly down the other man’s face. 

The two thoroughly aroused men stumbled their way up the path to the front doors. Laughing, they entered as quietly as they could. Harry led the way to his quarters, turning now and again to flash a heated look of desire at Draco. Soon, they were tumbling through the door to Harry’s rooms, landing on his couch, kissing and touching frantically. After an interminable time, they moved slowly into Harry’s bedroom and christened it well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neither of them saw the dark and defeated shadow of a man standing near the front gates, waiting for Harry to return. Neither of them heard his choked cry of mingled regret and fury as they kissed by the gates. Neither of them saw his balled fists, the heartbroken tears streaking furiously down his face as he watched them twine and wind their way up the path. 

Neither of them noticed when he followed them silently inside. They had eyes only for each other, Snape thought bitterly as he followed them to the entrance to Harry’s rooms. At least now he knew where the brat was living. And with whom, he thought with a wounded sniff. Angrily, he brushed away the tears lingering on his cheeks. Unable to leave, he sank to the floor across from the portrait of Merlin, who was smirking at him. 

He could just imagine what was going on in that room right now, he thought angrily. It didn’t take the insolent child long to replace him, he thought furiously. Harry was probably being shagged senseless by that smarmy, vain, self important, overly arrogant son of a bitch that was his godson, and now was his rival for Harry’s affections.

He was not far wrong. He wished he was, but the whelp had forgotten silencing charms completely. Probably on purpose, Snape thought with a glare of outrage at the smirking portrait. Snape could hear everything. He decided he deserved the punishment and stayed until no more sound escaped through the portrait. It nearly killed him to do so. 

Inside Harry’s bedroom, the atmosphere was charged with passion yet unfulfilled. The two men faced each other, undressing one another frantically. As their clothes were flung away, piece by piece, they kissed and licked, nipped and stroked each expanse of newly exposed skin. When fully naked, they stood back to regard one another for the first time. Green eyes gone mossy with passion met silver ones gone stormy with desire. They whispered at the same time, “Beautiful.”

Then they were entangled on the wide bed, sheets and duvet pushed aside. They needed no covering for their sweat slick skin. They simply needed each other. Desperately. Urgently. Completely.

Draco pressed Harry back onto the mattress, trailing hot kisses down his jaw, behind his ear, to his throat. He sucked at the skin covering the pulse point in Harry’s throat and was rewarded by a moaned, “Yes…ohGods…more…” He obliged, placing a trail of fiery kisses from Harry’s ear to his collarbone, then repeating it from the other ear to his shoulder. Harry writhed beneath him, gasping out encouragement and stroking Draco’s back, shoulders, and arse. Draco trembled at the touch, calling Harry’s name in a voice gone hoarse and raspy with need unsated.

Draco’s talented mouth moved lower, laving Harry’s nipples. Harry’s hips shot up as he cried out his need. Draco met him thrust for thrust and moved up to capture Harry’s lips once more, fucking his mouth with his tongue. When the need for air caused him to abandon the delicious lips he was fast becoming addicted to, he moved to Harry’s ear, sucking the lobe between his lips and biting down gently. 

Harry cried out, a frenzied sound of incoherent passion. “Draco…ohGods...please.” The blond man slithered down Harry’s body, sucking and nipping his way from nipples to the sweet treasure trail of dark hair that started above Harry’s navel and ended in a nest of curls that cradled his impressive erection. Draco placed a line of love bites across Harry’s abdomen, sucking hard at each one to bring the blood to the surface of the skin, causing Harry to cry out loudly, repeating his name with each bite Draco left. Draco lifted his head to capture Harry’s eyes in a heated glance of longing. 

He spoke, clearly. “Are you sure, Harry? Tell me now, because in a moment, I won’t be able to stop.”

Harry stared, trying to process the words. They rather shocked him and he felt the coiled heat in his belly stretching out to warm his entire being from the inside. This man cared enough to stop if Harry wanted him to. He smiled, a blinding smile that promised everything to his lover. “Don’t stop. I want you, Draco. I need you. Now.”

Draco kissed the head of his cock, licking just the tip of it, eliciting a sharp cry of want from the man pinned beneath him. “Gods, Draco. Please. Don’t stop. Not now. Not ever. Suck me. Lick me. Fuck me. Make me yours. Now.”

Draco sat back on his heels, bringing himself under control with extreme difficulty. His voice was a sharp rasp. “Be very sure, Harry. What I take, I keep. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I can wait longer for you to be sure, if necessary.”

Harry sat up, moved into his lover’s arms. He kissed his forehead softly. “I’ve wanted you for a long time too. Since seventh year, in fact. This isn’t a one off, I swear. You were there at the right time, in the right place. I want you. I see you. Not him. Never him.”

Draco was lost as the earnest tone washed over him, and the green eyes glowed warmly. All of that emotion directed at him, Draco Malfoy, the man who’d never sustained a relationship for longer than six months. He suspected he knew why, now. He’d been waiting for this man to finally sit up and notice him. Any other man wouldn’t have stopped for this conversation. Any other man would have taken what was on offer without thought of the future. 

He pulled the other man tightly to himself and murmured into his hair. “It’s not a one off for me either. I just want to be sure you won’t regret this when we wake up.”

Harry’s answering moan of ‘I won’t’ was all the answer he needed. Gently, Draco spread the other man out on the now damp sheets and resumed kissing and licking every inch of skin he could reach. He was intoxicated by the taste of his lover, the feel of his lover, the warmth and wet and tightness and pure desire that vibrated through Harry’s body. At last, he resumed his place between Harry’s legs and licked the head of his engorged prick again.

Harry nearly howled. The sound reverberated off the windows. Draco slid his hot mouth down the length of Harry’s erection, sucking strongly all the way down. Harry moaned his name again, a litany of pleas for completion. As Draco fell to his task with a will, he felt a jar of lubricant being thrust into his hands. Without removing his skillful mouth from the textured hardness he was lapping at so eagerly, he opened the jar and liberally coated his fingers. 

Harry spread his legs wider, felt a finger teasing his puckered entrance and growled. When that talented finger carefully breached the tight ring of muscle, he howled. When it brushed over his prostate, once, twice, three times, he came harder than he’d ever come in his life, shooting spurts of semen down Draco’s throat. Draco sucked tenderly at his softening prick, licking it clean as he continued to tease Harry’s muscle into allowing him entrance. Slowly, so slowly, he added another finger and felt Harry squirm restlessly. 

Draco twisted and stroked, coaxing the tight muscle into relaxing for him. Finally, he was able to add a third finger, and smiled at Harry’s demanding growl. “Now, Draco. I’m ready. Fuck me. Hard and fast.” He stroked in and out of Harry’s body with his fingers, hard and fast, but taking his time with it. He wanted this night to be perfect for them both.

Draco at last reached for a pillow, settled Harry’s hips on it, and coated his own aching cock with the lube. He poised himself at the entrance to Harry’s body and brushed the mushroom head of his erection over the hole. Harry moaned. Slowly, he slid inside, inch by torturous inch. When he was fully seated, he held still by virtue of his supreme force of will, allowing the other man time to adjust to the intrusion.

When Harry’s hips bucked up and he growled again, “Fuck me, now.” Draco began to thrust. Slowly at first, then harder and faster. He lost himself in the exquisite sensation of hot, wet compression that surrounded his prick and invaded his soul. Never breaking rhythm, he leaned down, capturing Harry’s swollen lips in a bruising kiss that sent fire blasting through both of them, scorching the edges of their souls and creating bursts of light that illuminated them both fully.

Draco reached down with one hand to fist Harry’s half hard penis, demanding it come to full attention. Harry was chanting now, “More, more more.” Draco stroked in and out of him, faster and faster, balanced precariously on the edge of climax. Two more strokes and he was there…exploding, shooting his seed into his lover’s body, howling his pleasure, Harry’s name torn from the depths of his being. Harry’s answering orgasm and hoarse cry of, “Draco…” drawn out with need, caused the already tight channel to convulse around Draco’s prick, milking it of every last drop of semen he had in him.

Draco collapsed atop his sweat soaked lover, nearly insensate with satiation. Harry’s arms wrapped securely around him, caressing his back and behind softly. Soft lips ghosted across his throat, sucking lightly, to soothe the intense sensory overload both were experiencing. When he thought he could move again, Draco carefully withdrew his limp penis from Harry’s arse. Turning them, he snaked his arms around the slender waist and broader shoulders. He feathered kisses along Harry’s forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, jaw, and finally, placed a tender kiss rife with caring and tenderness on his parted lips. 

Harry reached for his wand, mumbled the cleaning spells for their sweat and semen stained bodies and the rumpled, soaked sheets. Eyes barely open, he pointed his wand at the door and activated additional locking charms. He laid his wand down carefully, pulled the covers up over them, and fell asleep instantly. Draco kissed him sweetly once more and followed him into slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snape didn’t know how long he sat there after the noises subsided; he was beyond destroyed. He knew that he’d never elicited such noises from his lover. Harry had clearly enjoyed himself, had wanted it, every step of the way. He tried to summon up anger, and couldn’t. He knew he deserved to be left this way. He’d never treated Harry the way he deserved to be treated. He doubted that he ever could. 

His selfish soul wouldn’t let him give up, though. Painfully, he pulled himself up off the floor. He’d find a way to win Harry back, or perish in the attempt. Shoulders slumped, he made his lonely way back to his chambers. They were cold and they were empty, but they were his, as Harry was not.

He’d try again, in the morning. Perhaps if he just explained himself and threw himself on Harry’s mercy, the man would take him back. Snape needed him, as Draco did not. Draco didn’t need anybody, he told himself. Harry was _his_ dammit. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t even had a chance to explain. Or to beg forgiveness, or to make it up to Harry. Surely, if he could just talk to the man, he could make everything right between them again. He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that told him things had never been right to begin with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
TBC Coming Soon:  
Part Two: Contents Fragile


	2. Part One - Handle With Care

Title: Contents Fragile – this follows Handle With Care.   
Part Three is titled ‘Do Not Open Until Yule’ and will be out soon.  
Pairing: HP/SS, HP/DM  
Warnings: language, sexual situations, slash of course, emotional trauma, angst, Mpreg by the end of this part. Details in part three.  
Rating: NC-17, probably  
Summary: Severus, in a moment of careless cruelty, destroys the one thing he’s always needed most. Can he get it back? Harry has moved on, and refuses all overtures. Draco and Harry concentrate on their relationship...then Harry is taken ill, suddenly.

A/N: Oceans of gratitude to my writing partner, Laura – she’s as twisted as I am (that’s a compliment) and came up with some lovely plot devices to get this story where it wanted to go. She’s generally horrified by some of my ‘what ifs’ but always listens and makes suggestions that I find valuable. 

A/N the second: Thank you so much for the wonderful, thoughtful reviews that have come in response to this story. I really appreciate them; y’all have prompted me to develop this concept as fully as I can.

Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re JKR’s. They should be mine. They want to be mine. However, they’re hers. I just have sordid rendezvouses with ‘em from time to time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry very slowly attempted to pry his eyelids open, one by one. He winced at the bright light and immediately closed them again. Clearly, he wasn’t in the dungeons. He slowly became aware of a warm weight pressed against him, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, long finely textured hair teasing his nose and chin. He became aware that his legs were tangled with another pair of finely muscled ones. Slowly, the memories returned. He smiled sleepily and opened his eyes again.

It was better this time; the light wasn’t trying to sear his retinas. His green eyes found a pair of sweet silver ones locked on his face. He reached a hand up, stroked it down Draco’s cheek and murmured, “Good morning.” 

A soft chuckle was his reward along with a murmured greeting in return. Then those finely chiseled and oh so sensual lips were sliding on his own. Harry responded eagerly, losing himself in the delightful sensations sparking through his mouth and igniting his heart. He pulled back, searching the quicksilver eyes intently.

“Regrets?” Draco’s voice was rough with sleep, warm and comforting and solid.

“None. We’ll talk, after breakfast.” Harry’s smile was bright, only traces of his prior hurt lingering in his beautiful eyes.

“Right, then. Where’s your loo?” Harry pointed it out and was unable to suppress a whistle of sheer masculine appreciation as Draco exited the bed gracefully. 

Harry could not resist the truly terrible line that came to mind then, and blurted it out. “I’m awfully glad that swing is in my garden.” He chuckled delightedly at Draco’s answering bark of laughter. He knew it was cheesy; he simply couldn’t help himself. It was too early in the day to be serious.

He stretched contentedly in the bed while listening to the comforting sounds of water beating down in the shower and Draco’s off key humming. Rising, he moved quietly around the room gathering clothes, smoothing them out into piles. He was just saying the cleaning spells over the mussed clothing when Draco emerged and Harry’s breath lodged somewhere south of his navel.

The blond man was leaning against the bathroom doorway, surrounded by a nimbus of light coming from the tiny bathroom window. He had a towel draped casually across his hips. A tiny towel. That barely covered anything. Harry’s eyes were everywhere at once. Water dripped from Draco’s hair, from his ears, down his chest, catching on his nipples. It slid from there to pool in his navel and Harry suddenly wanted to lick him dry more than anything in the world. 

He refrained, knowing how fastidious Draco could be. He spoke softly to the other man, his voice textured with concern and care. “Do you need a hangover potion or anything else? I’ve got your clothes here.” He pointed shyly. “Do you want to get breakfast downstairs or up here?” He was babbling, suddenly nervous.

Draco smiled warmly at him. “I’m fine. I didn’t really drink that much, you know. I’ll call a house elf if that’s all right. We can have something here. Are you hungry?” 

Harry melted internally and glowed externally. “Starved. I’ll just get cleaned up then.” He tried to edge past Draco into the bathroom, but was stopped by a taut forearm sliding against his side. 

“Harry. Don’t be nervous. Everything’s fine.” Draco said it firmly and followed it up with a swift, relatively chaste peck on the lips. Harry’s nervousness slipped away. He stretched up slightly and placed a soft kiss on Draco’s cheek, then disappeared into the shower.

He returned a quarter hour later, feeling refreshed and relaxed as he hadn’t in months. He was dressed casually in his customary green and khaki colors. This time, the shirt was khaki colored, heavy cotton. The pants were form fitting dark green trousers. He looked good, very good, thought Draco with a sigh. He’d rather spend the day in bed, but they needed to develop their relationship in other directions, too. 

Draco, dressed in yesterday’s clothing, rose and pulled Harry’s chair out for him, casually. Harry sat down and looked cautiously over at his lover, who was filling a plate with eggs, bacon, fruit and bread. Harry did the same and they ate in companionable silence. Harry noted that they both liked their eggs the same way, scrambled. They both preferred coffee to tea first thing in the morning. They both liked a bit of melon with their meal. 

Plates empty, finally, Harry refilled their coffee cups and took a deep breath. “Draco. Last night was amazing, brilliant, glorious, wonderful. I will completely understand if that’s all you wanted, but I hope it isn’t.”

Draco’s eyes laughed at him as he regarded Harry mock soberly. “Why on earth would I only want ONE night of amazing, brilliant, glorious, wonderful you? I told you it wasn’t a one off. I meant it. If you did. If you didn’t, I’ll go and not bother you again.” That smooth voice rolled over Harry like a blanket, warming him through.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I meant it. I want more with you. I know, we were rivals in school and didn’t really get to know each other well till our last year. We’ve been friends since then, but…perhaps not as close as we could have been. I had the worst crush on you, Draco, you just don’t know…” Draco stopped him with a gentle finger across his lips.

“I know. I had one too. I didn’t think you’d be interested, though. I’m glad you are. I very much want to find out just exactly what we can become to one another.” His other hand reached out to cover Harry’s, squeezing it gently. He squared his shoulders.

“Let’s get the unpleasant bits out of the way, first, shall we? What exactly did my godfather do to cause you to leave him? Do you harbor any desire to return to him? Is there anyone else I should know about? I don’t share well.” Draco glared fiercely, not really wanting to hear the answers to his questions, but knowing he needed to, if their fragile relationship was to survive. 

Harry sipped his coffee slowly, ordering his thoughts. Then he told Draco everything that had happened during that last, fatal argument. By the time he was finished, Draco was red faced and panting.

“I will kill him. Let me kill him, Harry, please.” Other people offered him sympathy; Draco offered him retribution. He knew it was wrong to glory in that protective instinct he’d never known Draco had, but he gloried in it all the same. Then his rational side took over.

“You can’t kill him. You can speak to him, if you wish. I certainly will not, unless he forces it, which he probably will. However, I won’t ask you to choose. He’s your godfather.” Harry’s voice was firm; he would not come between Draco and the only family he had left.

“He’s a bastard, Harry. There’s no choice to be made. I will speak to him, as you put it. I won’t kill him, since you ask so prettily.” Draco was pouting. How adorable was that? Harry asked himself the question, knowing it was quite adorable indeed. He leaned across the table to lick gently at those pouting lips. Mmmm…delicious. Sitting back, he noted the flush in Draco’s cheeks and the heat in his eyes with some satisfaction.

“Draco. I don’t want him back. I won’t take him back. I had no idea how bad the relationship was until I’d gotten myself out of it. I spent a long time yesterday talking to Ron and Hermione before we went to town for dinner. I had it mostly sorted out then.” Harry smiled at his lover. “The rest sorted itself out when you whispered in my ear. Oh, and there isn’t anyone else you should know about.”

Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry lightly on the lips. “I’m glad. It took me a month to realize why I was so angry the last time I saw you. I warned him, you know.” He related the conversation he’d had with his godfather.

Harry’s eyes were shining. “You are so protective. I had no idea.” He chuckled at Draco’s affronted look. “I like it; I’ve just never seen this side of you before.”

Draco grumbled. “You didn’t have much reason to, now did you?”

“Harry! Harry! Are you there?” The fireplace was screeching at him in a voice that sounded like Hermione’s. Harry crossed to the hearth with a chuckle, gesturing for Draco to follow him. 

Her head appeared in the flames and her eyes widened, taking in the sight of the two men standing so close together. Then she smiled. “Good morning, you two. Draco, I trust you saw Harry home safely.”

Draco allowed himself a small smirk. “Yes, indeed, Mrs. Weasley. I can assure you; he’s fabulous.” He raised one perfect eyebrow and treated her to the full power of his smirk.

A vivid and rather fetching pink stained her cheeks. “Well, that’s all right then. As long as you’re both in the same place, I wanted to ask. Will you both come to dinner this Friday?” 

Surprised, they looked at each other. Something unspoken passed between them and they turned back to her and nodded. Draco answered smoothly, “We’d be delighted, Mrs. Weasley.”

She snorted. “I’m Hermione, Draco; you know that. My husband is Ron. We promise not to call you ferret boy, not even once.” 

Surprisingly, he chuckled at her and nodded his head. “Fine, then. Hermione. We’ll see you Friday. What time?”

The three spoke for a few moments longer, then Hermione disappeared. 

Harry was beaming at the end of the conversation. Draco leaned over and kissed him softly. “Mmm, you taste good, Harry. Spend the day with me?” Harry nodded.

“I need to make a stop in Diagon Alley, if you don’t mind. My broom and practice gear need replacing.” Draco nodded.

A short while later, the two left Harry’s quarters hand in hand. The first person they saw was Remus, just coming back from breakfast. He frowned for a moment at their joined hands. Then his face cleared as he took in Harry’s expression of peace. He extended a hand to Draco. “Mr. Malfoy. How nice to see you again.”

Draco inclined his head. “Likewise, Professor Lupin.” He shook Remus’ hand with a firm, steady grip. Their eyes met, Remus’ flashing a question, Draco’s answering it. Evidently, Draco answered correctly, because Remus smiled then. 

“Would you two like to join me for a cup of tea?” 

Harry spoke first. “Maybe later? We’re on our way out; I’ve some shopping to do, and Draco needs to stop in at the Manor.” He blushed, but only a little.

Remus grinned at them. “Off with you then. Perhaps I’ll see you this afternoon. Oh, Harry? He’s looking for you again. He was in a foul temper this morning, worse than usual.”

Harry’s face hardened. “It doesn’t matter, Remus. I am not available to him. Not now, not ever. Merlin’s been told.” Draco’s arm slid around Harry’s wait. Remus raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. 

Draco turned to Harry, speaking in a low voice. “Let’s go, before I find him and lose my temper completely.” Harry nodded and they said their goodbyes to Remus, promising to drop by later.

When they reached the vast entryway in front of the Great Hall, they were stopped abruptly by a snarl. Dammit. They hadn’t been quite fast enough. Snape was standing there at the foot of the steps, propped against the wall, clearly waiting for Harry. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all the past two nights. His hair was greasier than normal, swinging lankly against his cheeks. His sallow skin was marred by two bright spots of color high on his cheeks. His features were twisted into a sharp scowl. His eyes burned with rage and self righteous indignation. There was pain there, too, Draco noted with satisfaction.

“Potter!” The single word ripped out of the older man, its jagged edges ripping through Harry’s nerve endings. Harry’s stomach began to roll, then stopped when he felt the comfort of Draco’s hand on the small of his back.

He didn’t answer, wasn’t going to answer. He simply moved closer to Draco and kept walking. The malicious voice ripped through his defenses again.

“Potter! Slacking off, are we? You weren’t at the staff meeting yesterday. Don’t you want to know what happened in it?” Harry was not going to recognize the note of pleading beneath the viciousness of the tone.

He kept walking. Draco’s hand pressed firmly into his back was all that kept him from responding with pointless anger. There truly was nothing for them to say to one another. Draco looked at Harry, silently asking permission. Harry nodded imperceptibly.

“Harry clearly isn’t interested in anything you have to say, Snape. Piss off.” Draco’s voice was low, cultured as always, and full of carefully controlled venom.

“The insolent brat can’t even speak for himself now? If he has nothing to say to me, let him tell me himself.” Snape spat the words into the space between them. Once more the voice held a note of pleading beneath the vitriol of the tone. A look once more passed between the two younger men.

Harry squared his shoulders, then spoke. His voice was cold, disinterested, almost bored. “My reasons for missing the meeting are none of your concern, Professor Snape. I’ll catch up with the Headmaster. I do not require your assistance, or indeed, anything at all from you. Good day.” His voice was absolutely steady. He shot a look at Snape of pure disgust, and then turned his eyes on Draco, allowing them to warm when he saw the approval in Draco’s eyes.

Draco rubbed a small circle on Harry’s back, then turned a dangerous glance on his godfather. “You will not insult him in any fashion, Snape. Keep a civil tongue in your head, or you’ll have me to deal with. I did warn you.” With that, Draco and Harry crossed the entry way and exited through the front doors. 

Once through them, Harry collapsed into Draco’s comforting embrace, shuddering. He looked up a moment later. “That went well.”

Draco snorted. “It did, didn’t it? Are you all right?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. I had to face him sometime. I don’t mind telling you, I’m glad you were there. I was awfully tempted to hex him. Not for revenge. Just to make him shut up.”

Draco chuckled at that. “Do you still feel you don’t want to try and resolve things, now you’ve actually seen him?” The cultured voice held a note of uncertainty.

Harry nodded more vigorously. “Yes. I don’t want him. I can’t imagine why I ever did. You on the other hand,” Harry stretched up a bit to kiss Draco lightly on the lips. “I find you remarkably fascinating and I want to know more.” His voice grew softer.

“I want to know all of you, Draco.” He looked up hesitantly. Draco’s eyes were shining with affection.

“Good. I want to know all of you as well. Let’s get started on that, shall we?” He offered Harry his arm and the two strolled towards the front gates, lost in one another and their easy conversation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They went to Malfoy Manor, where Harry was added to the wards and introduced to the house elves. Harry had been shocked at that instant acceptance, and had commented.

“You don’t do things by halves, do you?” Draco had leveled a look at him of absolute certainty. 

“No, I don’t. If you’re with me, you’re with me, and you will be able to come and go as you please.” Harry nodded, speechless. He grabbed Draco’s hand and murmured to him.

“My wards are already set to let in anyone but Snape. My password, for the moment, is ‘betrayal’. Speak it to Merlin, he’ll let you in. You and the Headmaster are the only ones who have it. You are free to come and go as you please in my quarters.” Draco smiled at that, satisfaction etched upon his fine features.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll just go change, then we can be off.” Harry wandered the library, looking at this and that. He admired bric a brac and the extensive collection of books on the shelves. He peeked at the items on the mantle. He was just preparing to choose a book from the shelves and settle down to read when Draco appeared again, immaculate in elegantly cut beige trousers and a cashmere pullover in shades of blue. His robes were the same midnight blue he’d worn the day before, but more casually cut, for daytime wear. His hair was once more pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. Harry decided he liked it that way, in public. In private, he wanted it free and flowing through his fingers.

Harry gaped. “My Gods, Draco, is there anything you don’t look good in?” He could eat the man alive, he thought to himself with a lascivious smile.

Draco shot him an amused glance. “No.” His face softened and he took Harry’s hand, pulling the shorter man to him. “You look very handsome today, too. Then again, you always do.” He kissed Harry gently; Harry embraced him, reveling in the open and frequent shows of affection. He hadn’t realized how much he missed such a simple thing as a hug.

Moments later they were in Diagon Alley arguing the merits of the various racing brooms on display and Quidditch accessories. Harry made a quick stop at Gringott’s and then purchased what he wanted. They wandered Diagon Alley after that, browsing and occasionally buying, but mostly talking. They walked hand in hand, when Draco didn’t have his arm around Harry’s waist. Harry found himself draping an arm across Draco’s shoulders, loving the play of muscle he felt there. Again, Harry reveled in the simple unselfconscious gestures. The early spring breeze was fresh at their backs and both felt well content with the world.

They found themselves, several hours later, outside Fortescue’s. Harry was happy to discover that Draco liked ice cream as much as he did. They purchased large sloppy cones of chocolate and caramel ice cream and continued to wander, slurping happily. 

Harry chuckled and reached out a finger to swipe a bit of ice cream from Draco’s bottom lip. Draco hissed at that simple contact. Ice cream forgotten, he advanced on Harry and pulled him close. They moved into an alcove and kissed, as passionately as they had the evening before. Just as he began to moan appreciatively, he heard the crack of apparition. Before he knew it, they were standing in what Harry thought must be Draco’s bedroom.

It was a large and sunny room painted a soft shade of blue and dimmed slightly by the sheer white silky curtains at the windows. The bed, Harry noted with a gulp, was easily twice the size of his own, a canopied affair with four posters and heavy bed curtains in a darker blue. The bed clothes were also in shades of blue, soft and cozy looking. Evidently, Draco liked blue a lot; Harry made a mental note of that. 

Harry found himself being pressed up against the wall and assaulted heavily. Draco’s hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere at once. Harry tilted his head back to give Draco access to his neck. Draco took the opportunity to trail kisses from behind his ear to the pulse in his throat. Harry made a soft sound of need and wrapped his arms around the slender, strong body of his lover. He nipped at an earlobe, sucking it lightly, and moaned, “I want you. Now.”

Draco growled, eyes darkened with passion. He mumbled a spell and both were naked in an instant. He pressed himself fully against Harry’s body. Harry gasped at the sudden full contact of skin on skin. He spread his legs to allow Draco greater access and felt that strongly muscled thigh slide between his own, brushing against his burgeoning erection. He moaned with desire and listened with delight to Draco’s answering moan.

Draco was sucking at his collarbone, causing Harry to yelp. That particular spot drove him nearly insane with need, and Draco knew it. A small corner of his mind was surprised at how well Draco already knew his body’s responses. The rest of him was just fervently glad they could please each other so well. Harry slid his arms down his lover’s back, cupping his arse in strong, calloused hands. He squeezed lightly and heard Draco’s answering gasp.

Draco slid down his body, mouthing moist kisses all the way from nipples to navel to thighs, sucking at the skin, leaving marks of possession in a clearly delineated trail. Harry was shuddering, on fire with passionate need. He dimly heard the slap of a jar falling into Draco’s palm. He growled, “Yes, Draco. Now. Fuck me now.”

Draco’s answering growl made him shiver. He canted his hips outward, and felt Draco’s firm hand on one of his hips, holding him steady. That other wickedly talented hand was teasing his puckered entrance, stretching it, coaxing it to open. Harry began to sweat, and reached out to lick the sheen of sweat from Draco’s neck. Gods, the man tasted fine. 

Before long, he was impaled on Draco’s aching cock, thrusting his hips to pull Draco deeper into himself. They found a sharp, forceful rhythm that had them both crying out repeatedly. Draco’s long, harsh cry of, “Haarrrryyy,” signaled his climax. Harry felt the pulses through every part of his body, and gasped Draco’s name as he followed him over the edge.

Panting heavily, the two men collapsed against each other, both smiling their satisfaction. Then Harry found himself being lifted carefully into shaking arms. He was deposited on the bed. He murmured a protest as Draco left him for a moment, then smiled again when he felt the cleaning spell being cast. Draco then crawled into bed next to him. Harry gathered him into his arms, kissing his forehead and smoothing back the tumbled strands of platinum hair from Draco’s perspiration sheened forehead. He chuckled. “Your hair band is gone. Never mind, we’ll find it later. I rather like your hair all loose and wild.”

Draco kissed him lazily. “Only for you, Harry.” Harry made a noise of agreement. He kissed Draco’s temple once more and both slid into sleep. They awoke an hour later, revitalized and ready to continue their day. Once dressed, Harry stepped into Draco’s arms, murmuring to him.

“You’re amazing, do you know that? I can’t remember the last time I was so happy. Don’t get me wrong, the lovemaking is wonderful, but I really enjoyed talking to you today.” Harry smiled gently at his lover, stroking a hand down his back as he spoke the words.

Draco pulled him closer. “I had a wonderful time, too. You make me feel…a lot of things, Harry. Content. Happy. Settled. Protective.” He wrinkled his nose at his lover, who was grinning at him, then sighed rather pensively.

“There are a lot of demands on my time, Harry, just as there are on yours. I’ll be able to delegate some things. I want to spend time with you. Will you let me?” Harry was thoughtful, at that.

“Of course, if you’ll let me, too. We both have responsibilities, Draco, I won’t deny that. I have classes to teach, papers to grade, meetings to attend. You have your businesses to run. That doesn’t mean we can’t be together. It just means the time we do have will sometimes be short. It will always be special, though.” He kissed Draco gently, then pulled back.

“Shall we have tea with Remus? I’m starving again. Can’t imagine why.” His grin was cheeky. Draco’s answering smile was teasing.

“Can’t imagine. Your appetite must be…insatiable.” Harry laughed at him. He hadn’t realized how much humor had been lacking from his life lately; he welcomed it now.

The two men dressed quickly and went downstairs. Harry stuck his head in the fire to make sure Remus was home and ready to receive guests. Seconds later, Harry and Draco were standing in Remus’ sitting room. 

The older man ushered them into chairs and called for tea. He smiled at Harry. The boy looked wonderful, he thought; Windblown and glowing. “Have you two had a nice day?”

Harry blushed, as did Draco, then Harry answered, “Yes, we did. We went shopping. It’s a beautiful day for wandering around the shops.”

Remus chuckled; he’d just bet that’s not all they did, but it wasn’t his place to pry further. As long as Harry was happy, he’d be happy. He’d not expected Harry to jump into another relationship so quickly. Truth be told, he’d fully expected Harry to go back to Snape. Remus was glad he hadn’t. They really weren’t healthy for one another. Reflecting, he didn’t suppose this thing with Draco was all that unexpected, after all. They’d been dancing around each other for years.

When he expressed his thoughts to the two young men, they both chuckled and sheepishly agreed. Remus’ sharp eyes noted the unconscious protective gestures that Draco showered on Harry. Harry in turn expressed his affection through gentle touches and the look of blazing happiness in his eyes every time they rested on Draco.

The conversation between the three men was relaxed and easy, covering current events, school issues, and their personal lives. Draco found himself enjoying the company of both his lover and his lover’s de facto godfather. He hadn’t thought he could ever get along properly with a werewolf, but it seemed he could, for Harry. 

Remus in turn found Draco to be learned and witty, cultured and less arrogant in a private setting than he often was in public. He felt much better about their somewhat swiftly progressing relationship by the time Harry and Draco were ready to leave. Draco sat back with a sigh.

“That was delicious, Remus, thank you very much for including me.” He turned to Harry, his eyes warming. “I hate to do this, Harry, but I’ve got some business to attend to. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, thank you. I have papers to grade and lessons to plan, myself. If you’ve time, perhaps you’d like to join me in my quarters for a drink later this evening?” His hopeful smile made Draco’s heart clench in his chest.

“Yes. I’ll bring a bottle with me, shall I? I’m not sure how late I’ll be, though.” Harry smiled at him and both men rose to leave. They made their manners to Remus, suddenly wanting nothing more than a bit of privacy.

In front of Harry’s door, they stopped. Draco took the brunet in his arms, kissing him thoroughly. They pulled apart long moments later, panting. Harry chuckled weakly. “No more of that, or neither of us will get our chores done.”

Draco’s answering rueful chuckle told him how much Draco was affected by the kiss. “You’re right. I’ll see you later, then?” Harry nodded, throat tight. Draco brushed a hand down his cheek affectionately, eyes serious. “Be careful, Harry. He’ll want to talk to you again. He never lets anyone have the last word, if he can help it.”

Harry’s eyes glowed fierce. “I will not hide from him. I’ll take supper downstairs as I always do. He can piss off. Remus will be there. Dumbledore will be there. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He couldn’t resist capturing Draco’s lips in another brief, but intense kiss. “Do you want to use my floo, or shall I walk you out?” 

“The floo, please. I’ve a meeting in fifteen minutes.” Draco smiled at him, face lit with pleasure. He followed Harry inside and, a moment later, was gone. Harry stretched out on his sofa, surveying his new domain. Dobby had been in to tidy up while he was gone; the simple furniture gleamed and the place smelled like beeswax and lemon polish.

Sighing, he moved to his desk and began to clear the mountain of work he’d left undone thus far. Hours later, papers graded, lesson plans written up for the week, and correspondence attended to, he headed to his classroom to make sure all was in readiness for the week. He froze when he spotted the bedraggled flowers and forlorn piece of parchment in the center of his desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Furious, shaking, and huffing his breath in and out of his angry throat, he approached cautiously. He knew this had to be Snape’s pathetic and far too late attempt at an apology. Still, he checked it carefully for hexes, poisons and malevolent intent. He conjured a small box. Placing it on his desk, he used his wand to burn the flowers and parchment into a pile of ash. Carefully, he swept the ashes into the box and closed it. He left it on his desk for the moment.

He placed his lesson plans in the top drawer, then checked his supplies carefully. He summoned parchment and ink from a cabinet, then charmed a broom to sweep the floor. They’d be studying faeries this week, so he checked the cages to be sure the ones he planned to use for demonstrations were happy and healthy. Classroom chores complete, he was just leaving when he remembered the box. He went back to pick it up, then returned to his room. Hedwig was half asleep on her perch.

She hooted gently at him when he tied the box to her leg and shot him an annoyed glance when he said, “Take this to Professor Snape. No need to wait for a reply. If he tries to give you one, take it, though. I’ll get rid of it when you return. Be careful, girl.” She flew off. Harry then decided he needed to speak to the Headmaster.

He put his head into the fire and called out for Albus. “May I come through and see you for a moment? Is there anything I need to know about the staff meeting?”

Albus’ answering chuckle told him it was all right for him to come, so he stepped through, smiling. 

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable, Harry. Tea?” Harry accepted a cup gratefully. His mentor’s eyes twinkled at him. “You look as though you’re feeling better, Harry, which gladdens my heart.”

Harry nodded. “I am, Sir. Thank you. I spent most of the day with Draco Malfoy. It was…enlightening. He’s good company, Sir.”

Albus chuckled. “I imagine he is. Will you be seeing him again?” Albus thought he knew the answer to that, but asked anyway.

“Yes. He’s coming for a drink this evening. We’re having dinner tomorrow night.” Harry was glowing with quiet joy. 

“I see. Why not have supper here, my boy? Then I can welcome him and let him know he’s free to come and go as he likes.” Harry nodded slowly. The Headmaster, for whatever reason, wanted to show his support of Harry’s new relationship with Draco. Harry was not about to stop him.

“I’ll mention it to him. Are you sure it’s wise, Sir? I don’t want to antagonize Professor Snape unnecessarily.” Harry regarded the old man soberly. He wasn’t afraid of Snape, but he’d prefer to avoid further confrontation, especially so soon after beginning his relationship with Draco.

Albus’ eyes weren’t twinkling anymore; they were full of resolve. “You can’t avoid him, Harry. He’s going to be unpleasant for awhile. He needs to know I won’t stand for him harassing you. You’ve made your choice to not pursue a reconciliation with him. I want him to know where he stands.”

Harry nodded slowly. Perhaps Albus’ way was best. It usually was. “All right. I’ll ask Draco. If he agrees, we’ll both be here for the evening meal tomorrow.” 

The conversation then turned to the previous day’s staff meeting. Harry learned that it was his turn to chaperone the Hogsmeade weekend coming up. He sighed; all those hormonal teenagers were going to drive him insane. Maybe Draco would come with him for part of the day. He was surprised at how much he missed the man’s company already.

Half an hour later, Harry took his leave and went back to his rooms. It wasn’t quite time for supper yet and he wanted to relax. He should have known better. The hateful voice assaulted his ears and set his teeth on edge before he even saw the man coming.

“Potter. Harry. Can we talk?” Snape looked almost distraught. If Harry hadn’t known better, he’d have thought the man actually cared about him. He did know better, though. Now it was simply a case of sour grapes on Snape’s part and Harry wasn’t going to allow himself to be drawn into pointless arguing that wouldn’t change anything between them.

His voice was tired when he finally answered. “I have nothing of a personal nature to say to you, Professor Snape. Just leave me alone. I told you when I left that I was finished. The fact that I moved out should have made that very clear to you.”

Snape sneered, but it wasn’t really impressive. His red rimmed eyes with dark circles under them, and the lines carved heavily into his forehead told Harry that he wasn’t a happy man. Harry didn’t care anymore, he just wanted to be away from here, away from him. “I see Malfoy isn’t with you. Did he find someone more interesting to be with?”

Harry bristled at that, controlled himself, then said coolly, “No. He had business to attend to, as did I. He’ll be back later this evening.”

Snape’s voice was silky, venomous. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Draco’s not the faithful type. Not like I am.” His voice shook, caught in his throat. “I simply wanted to apologize to you, Harry. I said things I didn’t mean. I never should have said them. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Harry froze. He did not want to hear this. It didn’t matter anyway. He was still angry. “Sorry _IF_ you hurt me? What did you expect to do when that filth came out of your mouth? Fill me with joy? I think not, Professor.” He raked a hand through his hair, agitated. With a visible effort he calmed himself, erasing the emotion from his eyes and his stance, his voice softer, but still very certain.

”Severus. Our relationship hadn’t been working for a long time. You can’t tell me it’s a complete surprise to you that we’re no longer together. We don’t suit one another; I don’t think we ever really did. Surely you realize that.” Harry’s eyes were tired, guarded. He would not open himself to Snape’s apology. That would take him places he did not want to go. He missed Draco very much in that moment.

Snape’s voice was small in the silence between them. “I was happy. I thought you were too.” His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know how to make you happy, Harry. I can learn, though. If you’ll teach me.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t. I don’t want to. I don’t love you anymore, if I ever really did.” Harry’s voice was not unsympathetic, but was laced with certainty. Snape could hear it, and in the acknowledgement, he felt his heart shattering into a thousand slivers of glass, cutting him deeply. 

With an effort, he drew himself up, wrapped his dignity around him like a shield, and spoke as coldly as he could. “Then I won’t trouble you any longer. I thought perhaps you’d be willing to listen, that we could come to some sort of resolution. I see you’re not willing to do that. I thought everyone deserved a second chance, Potter, but I see that I was wrong about you.”

Harry laughed bitterly at the audacity of that statement. “You’ve had all the chances I’m willing to give you, Snape. Just leave me alone now.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode off to his rooms.

Snape watched him go, heartbroken. His face fell into a picture of agony. Harry was gone from him, never to return. He didn’t know how he was going to get through the next hour, much less the rest of his life, without him. In that moment, he realized what he’d lost, and his soul keened its grief as silent tears slid down his austere face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was slumped on his comfortable sofa, sipping a butterbeer when the soft knock came at the door. He called out, “Who is it?”

The muffled reply came. “Remus. Are you coming to supper?” Harry got up and let him in. His face was drawn, tired, still annoyed.

Remus stopped, staring at him. Harry gestured for him to sit down. “Want a butter beer? Or something stronger? I’ve got scotch and tequila and vodka, I think.”

Remus shook his head. “What happened to you? You were happy a little while ago.”

Harry snorted. “I still am, about that.” He paused, drank deeply, and continued, “I ran into Snape on my way back from the Headmaster’s office.”

Remus growled. “Did he hurt you?”

Harry shook his head. “No. It was…unpleasant…but not violent. He apologized, grudging and faint thing that it was. Said he was sorry if he’d hurt me and basically asked me would I please come home now.” He sighed.

“I never realized how very thick he was about things like this. It’s over. Can’t he see that? Anyway, I told him, again, that it was over, that I didn’t love him anymore. He didn’t take it well. I left. I miss Draco.”

Remus made sympathetic noises. Then the fire whooshed. Draco’s head was in it and Harry’s face lit up like a Yule tree. “Draco! Everything all right?”

Draco nodded and stepped through the fire easily, greeting Remus courteously, then leaning down to kiss Harry thoroughly. Both men were panting lightly and Remus was grinning when they broke apart.

“You got here just in time, Draco. Harry’s been missing you.” Draco’s face lit, his eyes warmed and he turned to Harry.

“You were? Good thing. I’ve come to invite myself to supper.” Harry smiled at him.

“Wonderful. Albus will love it. He asked me to invite you for tomorrow, but this is better.” He grinned cheekily. “Did you get your business taken care of?”

Draco sat himself down on Harry’s lap, caressing his cheek lightly as he settled himself against Harry’s chest. “Mm-hmm. It was difficult, but I managed it. I missed you, too, you know.” 

Harry’s approving noise was lost in Draco’s neck as he nibbled at it lightly. “I’m starved. Let’s eat, shall we?” The three men rose and left the room. Draco took Harry’s hand, pulling him back slightly. He wrapped his arms around Harry and squeezed lightly. Harry snuggled into the embrace, sighing happily.

Draco murmured, “I couldn’t stay away. I hope you don’t mind.”

Harry grinned at him. “How could I mind? I was about to floo you and see what you were doing.” He kissed Draco chastely on the lips.

“Come on, you two,” Remus called playfully, “No snogging in the corridors.”

They went. The three entered the Great Hall to pleased greetings from all the staff, except Snape, who stared at them angrily, then subsided at a warning word from Albus. Albus shook Draco’s hand warmly, saying clearly, “Mr. Malfoy, it’s a pleasure. Please feel free to visit us anytime.” His eyes rested warmly on Harry, indicating that he knew perfectly well who Draco was visiting, and that he approved.

The couple took seats next to Remus and across from Albus. Conversation was lively between the four, and the rest of the staff took their opportunity to greet Draco, to welcome him, and to visit for a bit with the couple. 

By the time dessert was served, Harry was yawning behind his hand. After the third one, he shot an amused look at his companion. “I’m sorry, it’s not the company. Must be all that fresh air today.”

Draco chuckled. “I can think of something else that might’ve worn you out.”

Neither of them missed the outraged snort, or Snape’s refusal of dessert. A moment later, when there was no reaction, he stalked angrily from the room, in a dark swirl of robes.

Harry laughed lightly. “That was unkind, Draco. Amusing, but unkind.”

Draco scowled at him. “I don’t much care about being kind to him right now. I’d rather be kind to you.” The scowl left his face as he noted the pleased flush on Harry’s cheeks. Then Harry yawned again. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs before you fall asleep in your cake.”

Harry nodded and allowed himself to be led away. Draco paused before they left the table completely, and directed his comment to Albus.

“Thank you for the dinner invitation, Headmaster. We’ve other plans tomorrow evening, but I’ll take you up on it again, if I may.”

Albus smiled blandly at his former student. “Of course, my boy. You are welcome here any time you like.”

Draco nodded. “Good. I’m taking him, now. He’s exhausted.” Draco quirked an eyebrow at the old man, and allowed himself a small smirk. The two men left quickly, hearing the chuckles of the remaining members of the table.

Harry leaned against Draco, utterly relaxed, as they climbed the stairs. Arriving at Harry’s door, he murmured, “Merlin, this is Draco. He has the password. Let him in anytime he asks you to.”

Draco smiled at that. “Come on. I think we’ll skip that drink. I must get back, at any rate. I somehow left an enormous pile of paperwork undone this weekend.” He maneuvered them to Harry’s couch and sat down, holding Harry lightly.

Harry looked up at him sleepily. “Hmmm. Wonder why. Maybe you were busy seducing me?”

Draco laughed at that. “I think you seduced me, you green eyed imp.” Harry leaned over to kiss him.

“Good. M’tired. Sorry.” Harry’s arms wrapped around his waist, his head fell on Draco’s shoulder. Draco looked down at the sleepy man, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him. 

He wanted to protect Harry from everyone and everything. Realistically, he knew this wasn’t possible. One, Harry could take care of himself. Two, Draco simply couldn’t be there every moment of the day. Still, he wanted to. His heart turned over in his chest as he watched Harry sleep. He’d never felt so comfortable, so settled, with anyone, ever. He devoutly hoped that he didn’t ruin this relationship, as he felt he’d ruined all his other ones. He hoped very much that Harry could learn to care for him as he was, and not expect him to change. 

He snorted softly. Harry had dated his godfather. Surely that had taught him that it was poor strategy to go into a relationship expecting your partner to make drastic changes in personality or behavior for you. Draco was a driven man. He had many demands on his time. He was sometimes curt, often autocratic, often arrogant, and always conscious of his place in the Wizarding world. He knew he had redeeming qualities, too, though.

He was loyal, he was steadfast, he was protective. He had lost the prejudices of youth, and understood far more of human character now than he had as a child. It didn’t matter where a person’s magic came from. What mattered was what they did with their talents. Draco was still more comfortable with the pureblood friends he’d grown up with, but he was more open to friendly overtures from the muggle born witches and wizards around him. 

He was capable of great love, once trust was established. Once he gave his heart, he knew it would be forever. He was quite sure, in that moment, that he’d never given his heart completely before, and thought that was probably while all his previous relationships ended in disaster. He was intelligent and witty. He was good company. Harry said so, so he knew that last bit was the truth. Harry never lied, unless it had something to do with Voldemort.

Draco recalled their seventh year and the few lies Harry had told. He’d known instantly that they were untruths, simply from Harry’s expression when he uttered them. He didn’t think anyone else had, though, or Voldemort’s defeat would not have been so swift and sure. He reflected on what he knew of his companion’s character, and decided they’d suit very well, if their relationship continued to develop.

Like himself, Harry had a strong work ethic. He understood the value of a job well done. He was dedicated to his students. He was intelligent, resourceful, funny, charming when he wanted to be, and could be arrogant when the situation called for it. He was kind to everyone around him, unless he had a reason not to be. He was open and loving and warm and delicious, Draco thought with a shiver of desire. He was loyal almost to a fault, and highly trustworthy. Draco smiled, getting sleepy himself. He drew Harry closer to him, kissed him lightly. Once, twice, three times, then Harry was opening sleepy eyes.

“Hi, you.” He kissed Draco back affectionately, running his fingers through the soft blond hair of his lover.

Draco sighed contentedly. “Let’s get you to bed, love. I must go. I’ll see you outside the gates tomorrow evening. Six thirty all right with you?” Harry nodded and allowed himself to be led into the bedroom.

Draco helped him undress, tucked him in, and kissed him softly once more. He really didn’t want to go, he thought with a sigh, but he had a great deal to accomplish tomorrow, so that he’d be free to spend more time with Harry in the coming weeks.

Harry’s voice stopped him as he was leaving the room. “Draco? Thank you for a wonderful day, love. Use the floo, please. It’s safer this time of night..”

Draco’s heart turned over in his chest once more. Harry, sleepy as he was, still had enough presence of mind to be concerned for his safety. He murmured. “I will. See you tomorrow, Harry.” Then he was gone. When he slept, later that night, he dreamed of glowing green eyes, tousled black hair, and calloused hands stroking him everywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry woke rather early the next morning, energized and ready to start his day. He stretched lazily, taking advantage of the extra time he had. He summoned parchment and ink, wrote a short note, and sent Hedwig off with it.

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank you for tucking me in last night. I’ll see you outside the gates this evening. Have a good day. Don’t work too hard, all right?_

_Yours,_

_Harry_

He rose once the note had been sent. He showered, whistling, and went downstairs, still whistling. Remus and Albus both laughed at him when he arrived for breakfast, hair askew and cheeks glowing.

Remus purred, “You look as though all’s right with your world, today, Harry.”

Harry grinned cheekily at him. “It is, Remus. It is.” He filled a plate and dug in, absently sipping coffee from the mug Remus set before him. “Thanks. It’s perfect. Draco fixes it perfectly too. We had breakfast yesterday morning and….” He broke off at the subdued growl of frustration from down the table, then continued in a whisper, “I was in the shower while he called for breakfast, and he just seemed to know how I like my coffee.”

Remus whispered back, “So, how is he in bed?” 

Harry flushed scarlet and choked on his eggs. “Remus!” His eyes sparkled. His next words were pitched to carry slightly. The naughty imp inside him insisted on it. “He’s bloody brilliant, Remus.”

Harry sat back with satisfaction, noting the other man’s blush and murmur of ‘I thought he would be’ with a chuckle. He attacked his breakfast, cleaning the plate, and filling it again.

“Hands off, Remus. Mine.” He mock growled at his friend, who raised his hands.

“Wouldn’t dream of intruding.” Remus was laughing at him.

Moments later, the morning owls began to arrive. Hedwig dropped a copy of The Prophet beside his plate. He picked it up, scanning the headlines absently as he crunched on bacon and toast. Harry wasn’t usually this hungry in the mornings, but his appetite today was bottomless. He looked up at a muffled squawk from Remus. A majestic Eagle Owl was hovering in front of him. 

Clutched in her claws was a creamy envelope, stamped with the Malfoy crest. Harry reached out and took it from her. He handed her a piece of bacon and told her to go to his quarters if she wanted to, for a rest and a drink. He hoped Hedwig would be polite. Her hoot of acquiescence told him she would, so he flipped her a piece of bacon too. The two owls flew off together.

Harry set the envelope carefully on the table. With a flash of silvery light, it popped open. The contents grew rapidly before Harry’s astonished eyes. In less than a moment, he was looking at a crystal vase full of fire roses. Harry counted automatically. Two dozen fire roses, surrounded by greens and small white lacy baby’s breath. It was beautiful and Harry stared in awe. He finally noticed the note beside the vase and picked it up.

_Dear Harry,_

_I had a marvelous weekend, and look forward to spending more time with you. Please accept this small token of my esteem. You have always meant a great deal to me, in one fashion or another. I found out this weekend just how much we can mean to one another, and I relish the journey. With you._

_Affectionately,_

_Draco_

Harry sighed happily, then started at the voice at his elbow. He hadn’t realized anyone was standing there. Minerva McGonagall was regarding him sternly, a small smile playing on her lips. She chided him gently.

“Such a public display, Harry. They’re lovely. Who are they from?” Harry’s eyes laughed at her. She knew perfectly well who they were from. 

“Draco Malfoy, Minerva. I’ll warn him. Such displays are best left for lunchtime, I think.” She was unable to suppress her mirth; a chuckle escaped her.

“See that you do.”

Albus joined in. “It seems you have an admirer, Harry. He shows good taste.”

Harry laughed at that. Did Albus mean the flowers or Draco’s choice of partner? Probably both, knowing the sly old man. He snapped his fingers and Dobby appeared. “Good morning Master Harry. Ohhh, those is pretty flowers.”

Harry smiled and buried his nose in them for a moment, enjoying their fresh sweetness. They were beautiful, a brilliant dark salmon the color of a sunset, with small silver flames dancing around the blossoms. They would remain fresh and unspoiled for weeks. Reluctantly, he handed the vase to Dobby. “Please put these on the desk in my sitting room, Dobby. I have a class in a little while.”

Dobby nodded, took the vase, and disappeared; not before throwing a venomous look at the angry Professor sitting down the table. Harry sat back, re read his note, and grinned sappily at it before folding it and tucking it carefully away in a pocket of his robes.

The morning and afternoon passed pleasantly enough. After his last class, Harry was headed to the staff room to find someone to supervise the detention he’d had to assign two sixth year students. They’d hexed each other inappropriately in class. He was fairly certain he could get someone to take over for him. 

He stepped into the staff room and was instantly verbally assaulted. He sighed. Not again. Then he brightened. Maybe he could turn this to his advantage.

“Potter! What a puerile display of excess this morning. Exactly what I would expect from children.” Snape sniffed arrogantly, then continued. “I require your assistance in the lab this evening. Madame Pomfrey is out of bruise salve.” Clearly, the man thought this suave offer to spend time together would bring Harry back to him. Harry snorted internally and schooled his features to soberness.

“I’m afraid I have plans this evening, Professor. If you require assistance, you may have my detention students this evening. Parker and Menard hexed each other; they’re both sufficiently trained in brewing healing salves. I’m sure their assistance will be invaluable. It will be sufficient punishment for them, I assure you.” Harry was unable to stop himself from sneering derisively at the older man. It was petty. He knew it. He didn’t care.

Albus’ voice broke in. He might have known the old man would be watching out for him.  
“That’s a fine idea, Severus. I’m sure you’ll be delighted to accept Professor Potter’s kind offer.” His eyes flashed at Snape, warning him that he had better be delighted. Snape had no choice but to acquiesce gracefully, or appear the fool once more in front of his colleagues, not to mention facing the wrath of Headmaster Dumbledore.

He curled his lips into a sneer. “They’ll do. Send them to me at eight o’clock, then.” He turned on his heel to leave in ignominous defeat. 

Harry called out after him, “You’re welcome, Professor.” The room filled with laughter as Snape left as quickly as he decently could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next weeks passed quickly. Harry and Draco spent as much time together as possible; they had supper at Hogwarts or elsewhere, every single evening. Often, they socialized with business associates of Draco’s. Harry was surprised to find himself enjoying the social setting; he discovered that he was good at small talk and making Draco’s guests feel comfortable. Draco thanked him for it more than once; having a socially accomplished partner was an asset to his business interests.

They went shopping together one weekend, so that Harry could acquire a wider selection of dress robes and accessories. Harry insisted on purchasing his own clothing, so Draco bought him a splendid pair of dragon hide ankle boots instead. One morning, Draco woke up to a bouquet of flowers, delivered by Dobby, and a rather suggestive note from Harry. They both took the day off and spent it in bed, reveling in the physical contact. Harry had gotten Remus to cover his classes and assigned them all pop quizzes; Draco, for once, didn’t have any meetings, and Harry knew it, having asked the house elves the night before.

Their late nights were spent in each other’s arms, in Harry’s rooms or Draco’s bed. Or the nearest wall, alcove, corridor, shower or bathtub. They weren’t choosy about location. They wanted only to be together. They each had a healthy appetite for lovemaking and indulged it shamelessly, soaking in the emotional connection that got stronger between them every day.

At least once a week, they indulged themselves in one on one Quidditch, racing one another and competing in friendly fashion till both were breathless and laughing, sweaty and thoroughly aroused. The shower rooms behind the pitch had never seen so much action, Harry thought with a chuckle of salacious glee.

Draco took to popping in for lunch every other day or so, and Harry was always glad to see him. Harry learned to grade his papers as quickly as possible after the last class of the day so that they would have more time together when Draco was finally free of work. They spent time with Harry’s friends, nearly as often as they did entertaining Draco’s dinner guests. 

Harry watched Draco carefully for the better part of a week, to learn what he liked, and one afternoon at lunch there was a package sitting in front of the space Draco normally occupied at lunch time. He arrived moments later with a smile and a quick kiss for Harry. 

“What’s this?” He raised an eyebrow and waited patiently, seating himself easily. Harry blushed and shot a look of shy affection at him.

“It’s a present. For you. No particular reason. I just wanted to.” He leaned over and kissed Draco quickly on the cheek. “Open it.”

Draco did and caught his breath as he lifted the fine platinum pendant from its nest of velvet. The jeweler’s box was from an upscale establishment in Hogsmeade; one Draco didn’t own, thus preserving the surprise. Judging from his reaction, he was truly surprised and pleased. Harry’s heart sang. He’d spent days poring over the catalog, then deciding on a specially commissioned piece instead. They’d finished it just that morning. He’d barely had time to retrieve it before it was lunchtime. He thanked Merlin for the free period he had right before lunch on Fridays.

Draco was staring at the pendent, silent, his eyes glowing, a small smile playing about his lips. The pendant was suspended from a platinum chain, delicately wrought but substantial enough to suit him. The pendant itself was an oval piece, polished and gleaming, with an oval moonstone set into the center of it. Protective runes were etched into the border, creating a pleasing design that went well with the stone Harry had chosen. Harry was murmuring to him.

“It matches your eyes, and has protection spells woven into the metal. The stone itself is charged with positive energy, to give you a boost during those long meetings you despise so much. Do you like it?”

Draco, still holding the pendant in one hand, slid his other arm around Harry’s shoulders and kissed him soundly. Catcalls from the nearby students had them both blushing and pulling apart a bit. 

Draco’s voice was pitched so only Harry could hear him. “I love it. Thank you. I’ll thank you more properly this evening.” He raised an eyebrow and raked a heated glance across his lover’s face and form. “Put it on me?”

Harry nodded and stood. He took the necklace from Draco’s hands, unclasped it and slid it around his neck. He fastened it securely, brushing his fingers across the blond’s neck rather longer than he needed to, smiling at the shiver he felt racing through Draco’s body.

He sat, and surveyed his lover. The pendant hung just the way he’d wanted it to, between the second and third clasp of Draco’s robes, now opened for comfort, displaying a crisp business blue shirt and dark trousers. He breathed softly, “You are the most beautiful man, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco was fingering the pendant absently, weighing it in his hand, enjoying the fine workmanship there. He looked up to glowing green eyes, shining with emotion. His own eyes heated and softened again as he registered the words. “Thank you, love. So are you.” Harry was looking rather fetching that day, in dark green silk teaching robes, his cheeks flushed with the first bloom of love.

Draco looked more closely at his companion. He was blooming with health, eyes bright, smile brilliant, skin a flawless pale gold where it wasn’t flushed. They filled their plates and fell to with a will. Harry was ravenous, devouring everything on his plate, and seconds beside. Draco chuckled.

“What have you been doing to work up such an appetite?” Harry flushed, knowing what he’d rather have been doing.

“Just dueling demonstrations. I got Remus to help me for the morning; Albus will be my partner this afternoon, unless you’re free?” He raised an inquiring eyebrow at Draco, who shook his head.

“I’ve got to finish organizing that publishing house I bought last year, love. I’ll see you for supper though, if you like. About seven? Pop over when you’re ready, all right?” Harry nodded. When his plate was finally clear again, he stood. Or tried to. He was halfway out of his chair when he swayed, face turning parchment white. His eyes widened.

“Draco, I don’t…” With that, he slid silently to the floor in a dead faint. Draco was instantly on the floor beside him, alarmed. Draco surveyed him quickly for damage, and was relived to note that Harry appeared unharmed. He scooped Harry up and headed to the Infirmary. They arrived moments later, Draco breathless. He spoke to Madame Pomfrey, voice sharp with worry.

“He fainted, just now, at lunch. He’s not conscious yet. Do something.” She took over immediately, her brisk presence a comfort. Draco set Harry carefully on the bed she indicated and stood back, watching anxiously. He didn’t know what was wrong with his partner, but he wasn’t going to leave him alone, regardless.

TBC

Coming Soon – Part Three  
Do Not Open Until Yule


	3. Part Three - Do Not Open Until Yule

Title: Do Not Open Until Yule Part Three, follows ‘Handle With Care’ and ‘Contents Fragile’.   
Pairing: HP/SS, HP/DM  
Warnings: language, sexual situations, slash of course, emotional trauma, angst, Mpreg – yes, it’s obvious now. *smirk*  
Rating: NC-17, probably…pause…oh yeah   
Summary: Severus, in a moment of careless cruelty, destroys the one thing he’s always needed most. Can he get it back? Harry has moved on, and refuses all overtures. Draco and Harry concentrate on their relationship...then Harry is taken ill, suddenly. He’s quite surprised to learn of his condition, as are Draco and the others around them.

A/N: Oceans of gratitude to my writing partner, Laura – she’s as twisted as I am (that’s a compliment) and came up with some lovely plot devices to get this story where it wanted, and still wants madly, to go. She’s generally horrified by some of my ‘what ifs’ but always listens and makes suggestions that I find valuable. 

A/N the second: Thank you so much for the wonderful, thoughtful reviews that have come in response to this story. I really appreciate them; y’all have prompted me to develop this concept as fully as I can.

Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re JKR’s. They should be mine. They want to be mine. However, they’re hers. I just have sordid rendezvouses with ‘em from time to time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Madame Pomfrey ran her wand over Harry’s still, pale form. Frowning, she did it again. “He’s anemic, which is rather odd, but that wouldn’t cause him to faint, necessarily.” She turned to Draco. “Did he eat anything unusual?”

“No. Just that awful Shepherd’s Pie he loves so much.” She smiled reassuringly at the blond man, who had subsided in a chair, looking worried. He reached out for Harry’s hand and curled his fingers around it. “What’s the matter with him?”

Madame Pomfrey bustled around, bringing back a blood boosting potion. She pointed her wand at Harry’s throat and poured it down him. She laid a soft wet flannel across his forehead and took his pulse.

“I’ve an idea what it might be, Draco. Can you stay until he wakes up? I need his permission to do the test.”

Draco threw her a baffled look. “Test? What test?” She smiled enigmatically at him.

Just then Harry began to stir. He moaned softly. “Did anyone get the number of the hippogriff that hit me?” Draco chuckled, relieved.

“How do you feel, love?” Harry squinted.

“Dizzy. Nauseous. Tired. Achy. I haven’t felt quite right since Hermione tried to make us eat eggplant parmigana.” Draco shot him an annoyed look and shuddered at the unpalatable memory. 

“Do you mean to tell me you haven’t felt well for two weeks and are just now getting around to telling me?” Draco thought they trusted one another more than that. Besides, he hadn’t noticed anything off with Harry recently. He wondered to himself how observant he really was.

Harry laid a soothing hand on the one he was already holding. “It’s nothing, I’m sure. I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t severe, or urgent. If I thought it was, I’d have mentioned it.” He squeezed Draco’s fingers.

“I just get a little dizzy sometimes if I stand up too fast. Nearly every morning, my stomach is queasy, but it goes away as soon as I have my first cup of coffee. I’m sure it’s nothing.” He repeated the words, smiling reassuringly at his lover.

Madame Pomfrey said dryly, “It may indeed be something, Harry. You’ve gained half a stone or more since your last check up. That was in January. This is the end of April. What have you been eating?”

Draco answered that with an amused chuckle. “Everything in sight. He must have an incredible metabolism, to eat as much as he does and only gain a little bit.”

Harry blushed. “I can’t help it. Your house elves are marvelous cooks, Draco. Besides, you know the most delicious restaurants in London.”

Draco smiled at him. “I know, love, I was only teasing you a little.” He turned serious eyes on the medi witch, who was grinning smugly. “He has been eating more recently. He gets tired earlier than he did a few weeks ago. I thought I was wearing him out.” Draco had the grace to blush slightly there and stop.

“You may have done more than that, my good man.” She was laughing at them; clearly they had no idea. “Harry, I need to do a test, but I need your consent first.” She paused, waited till both sets of eyes were firmly fixed on her.

“I want to do a pregnancy test.” She waited for it, and was not disappointed.

Two voices, one cultured tenor, one outraged baritone, said at the same time, “WHAT?!”

Then they began to babble, one after the other. 

“That’s impossible.”

“Men don’t get pregnant.”

“We’re both men.”

“I top as often as you do, why didn’t you get pregnant?”

A startled Draco and highly amused Madame Pomfrey started to laugh at that. After a moment, Harry joined in. When he got control of himself and his incipient hysteria, he saw that Draco was mostly calm too. Soberly he asked the medi witch, “Can you please explain how this is possible and why neither of us realized it could be?”

She nodded, suppressing a smile. “Wizard pregnancies are rare, but not unheard of. There are two children of male couples that attend Hogwarts that I can think of. It only happens between wizards, or witch couples of course, of complimentary magical skills, and relatively equal strength.” She paused to survey them both. If either needed a calming draught, she wanted to be prepared. They appeared to be handling the possibility well, so far.

She continued in her best lecture style. “In this case, I’d say Draco’s unbroken pureblood lineage provided the additional strength necessary to be a match for Harry’s powers. He’s not quite as powerful as you are, Harry, but close, very close. I’ve always known your magic calls you to one another.”

Draco interjected, “You could have told us that seventh year. We’d have had ten extra years together.” Harry grinned at that and nodded.

Madame Pomfrey replied, “You had to find that out for yourself. There are no magical soul mate bonds. People come together when they want to, and when they are ready. If they’re meant to be together, the magic within calls, but does not compel them. You have to fall in love on your own. Now Harry, may I do the test?” 

Harry glanced at Draco, then responded to her. “Can you give us a moment alone, please?” She nodded, still smiling, and withdrew. Albus needed to know anyway, so he could take over Harry’s classes for the afternoon.

Harry turned hesitant eyes on Draco. Draco was staring at him in wonder and dawning joy. Harry spoke tentatively. “Draco? Are you all right with this? I swear, I had no idea it could happen. It never occurred to me to use contraception.”

Draco laughed, a tinkling sound full of happiness. Harry blinked at his response. “If indeed you are pregnant, I’m thrilled. I’ve always wanted a family. We’ll work it out.” He turned eyes dark with emotion on Harry, suddenly serious. “How do you feel about this?”

Harry smiled. “I never thought I’d have children, but wanted to. I certainly wasn’t willing to sleep with a woman to get one, though.” He laughed at Draco’s heartfelt ‘Thank the Gods for that!’

Harry reached out, took both of Draco’s hands in his and met his eyes, steadily. He took a deep breath. “I love you, you know. I have for quite awhile. I haven’t said anything because…well, it’s only been two months with us; not quite two months, really. I’d understand if you weren’t ready…or didn’t think I was. I am, though. I love you.”

Draco was instantly beside him, holding him close, murmuring in his hair as he stroked Harry’s back. “I love you too, my imp. I have almost since the beginning. I didn’t want to frighten you. It hasn’t been that long since you…weren’t happy. I wanted you to be sure.” He pulled back to look deeply into Harry’s eyes.

“I’m not good with relationships, Harry, I never have been. I’m not saying it because you might be pregnant, you know. I’m still rather reeling from that bit of news, but my feelings are not in question. I’m saying it because it’s true. We’ll sort everything out, love, I promise.” Draco looked anxiously at Harry. He didn’t want him to misinterpret how he felt.

Harry nodded at that, and kissed Draco then, a fierce kiss of love and possessiveness. Draco returned the caress fervently, allowing all of his feelings to flow through that kiss. When they pulled apart long moments later, both were breathing heavily. “You aren’t bad at relationships, love. You just hadn’t found the right person. You’re wonderful, don’t you know that?”

Draco chuckled shakily. “No one has ever affected me so strongly. Let’s let her do the test, so we can get out of here, all right?”

Harry nodded, equally shaky from the intensity of that kiss. He pushed aside the issues he knew they needed to discuss. Those could wait. This could not. Pomfrey bustled in a moment later, vial in hand. 

“I just need a drop of your blood, please.” She took it from him carefully and watched it drop into the vial of clear fluid. Recorking it, she shook it up until the blood was uniformly mixed, lending a pink tint to the liquid. She set it on the bedside table, then regarded them both seriously.

“We’ll know in a few minutes if the test is positive or not. It will turn blue if you’re pregnant and stay pinkish if you’re not. If you are, there are several other tests I need to run, to be sure you’re both healthy.” 

The two men nodded, hands clasped tightly. They watched the vial impatiently. Slowly it changed from pinkish to pale blue to navy blue. When it stopped changing, the two men let out triumphant noises. Draco gathered Harry into his arms, hugging him fiercely. Harry kissed his lover gently.

Draco’s next words moved him beyond measure. “We’re having a baby. Our baby. I love you, my Harry. Thank you. I’ll take good care of both of you, I promise you that. He ran a possessive hand over Harry’s abdomen. He directed his next words at the little one resting there. “Hi, baby. I’m your father. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Harry chuckled. “I don’t think he or she can hear you, love. I love you too. So much. This is the best gift I could ever receive.” He kissed Draco again and lay back against the pillows. Draco moved to the chair again, more businesslike now. 

“What now, Madame Pomfrey? What do I need to do to make sure he and the baby are healthy? What will happen over the next few months? What about the birth process?”

Madame Pomfrey regarded him approvingly. It seemed Draco Malfoy had grown up at last and was more than willing to live up to his responsibilities. It was obvious to her that he was besotted with Harry, had been for weeks. She smiled, happy to see Harry so content and well loved.

“I have a vitamin potion he’ll need to drink every morning. It will help with the queasiness.” She turned to look at Harry. “I’m a bit surprised you haven’t been to see me before this. Most pregnant men have a lot of morning sickness.”

Harry grinned. “Not me, evidently. I haven’t thrown up at all. Just, first thing in the morning, my stomach rolls a bit. If I smell something odd, I might get a little nauseous, but it hasn’t really been a problem until I fainted today.” He turned apologetic eyes on Draco. “I’m sorry about that, love. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

”It’s all right. I’m just glad I was here to take care of you. It seems right to me that we found out the cause together.” Harry nodded in agreement, smiling brightly at his love.

Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat. Really, how was she supposed to explain when those two were staring so sweetly at each other. Startled, they both turned towards her, attempting to focus again. “You’ll need more sleep than you’re used to, and you’ll need to use a shield during practical demonstrations in class. Other than that, eat well, take care not to fall and you should be feeling much better in another month.” 

The two men were staring at each other again. She cleared her throat loudly and continued. “As for the birth; your body has already created a womb for the baby to grow in. When it’s time to give birth, your body will create the birth canal, where your perineum is now. It will close itself up when the baby exits the womb.”

Harry’s relieved, “Well that sounds painless enough,” made her laugh out loud. 

“Unfortunately, you will feel the contractions and most of the usual discomfort that goes along with giving birth. You’ll live through it, though. It’s not that bad.” She laughed heartily again at the mutually horrified expression on their faces.

Draco turned to Harry. “I’ll be here the whole time, I swear. I won’t let you go through that alone.”

Harry’s whispered, “I know, love, it will be all right,” and his reassuring hug to his lover made Pomfrey’s eyes mist over.

She became brisk again in self defense. “Now then, I’ve several tests to run. Do you want to know the sex? I can tell you, as well as how far along you are. Likely not very far, if you’ve only been feeling ill for a couple of weeks.”

They looked at each other, holding a conversation without saying a word. Harry spoke, then. “We’d like to know the sex. We need to know how far along I am and anything else you can tell us.”

She nodded and began running her wand over him. “There are books in the library that will help you both prepare, for childbirth and child rearing.” They nodded to each other at that. Neither of them had had particularly sterling examples of parenthood to go by. Books would help. They both resolved silently to talk to Molly Weasley as soon as it was appropriate; she’d know practical things the books never mentioned.

Several moments later, Madame Pomfrey stood back and regarded them soberly. “Congratulations, it’s a boy. Both of you are in good health, although, Harry, you’re a little bit anemic still. The vitamin potion will correct that. Eat more red meat for a little while. No alcohol. Cut back on salt and sugar as much as possible and eat more vegetables and fruit.”

She paused and took a breath. This next part wouldn’t be as easy for her to say. “My tests indicate that you’re six to ten weeks pregnant, Harry. That would put the conception date somewhere between the last week of February and the third week in March. I’m sorry. I can’t be more certain than that, based on the baby’s development and the strength of his magical signature.”

Harry swore, quietly, intensely, and profusely. He turned distressed eyes on Draco, who was also swearing. In French. They’d found one another on the first day of March. “Draco? Talk to me, love.”

He turned stormy eyes on his beloved. “Do you remember the last time you had sex with my godfather?” Harry nodded unhappily. They’d both forgotten Madame Pomfrey was there listening. She raged inwardly because she wasn’t able to calm their fears. Outwardly she remained impassive and stepped away a bit, giving them the illusion of privacy.

“It was the day before you and I got together, love. Remember, I told you we argued, because he wouldn’t trust me enough to let me top?” Draco nodded, angry; not at Harry but at the situation. He made a decision just then.

“I don’t care if it’s his child or not. I love you and I’m not letting you go. If it’s his child, he can have visitation rights, but we’ll retain custody.” Draco’s face was determined. He loved this man and no one was going to get in their way.

Harry frowned at him. “What do you mean? We’ll retain custody.”

Draco looked at him impatiently. “I want to marry you, as soon as you’ll have me, of course. I would have anyway, but probably not for several months. This news just moves things up a bit. It doesn’t matter if the child is mine biologically or not, except in terms of succession.” He looked at Harry again, and smiled faintly.

“If this child isn’t mine, I will still love him as much as I love you. If he’s got Snape’s genes running in his veins, we’ll simply keep trying until we have another child, and that child will inherit the Malfoy interests.” He gazed at Harry, watching his face clear as he processed what Draco had said.

Slowly, he answered. “I think I understand the line of succession issue. I don’t particularly like it, but I understand it. I never expected to have children, so never really thought about it. He’s my heir, either way. If the baby isn’t yours, he’ll be Snape’s heir.” He shuddered, praying it wasn’t true. He did not want to share anything with that man, much less a child. Then it registered, what else Draco had said. His face burned with emotion.

“You want to marry me? Even knowing that this child might not be yours? You want to raise him with me, no matter what?” Draco nodded firmly.

“Yes. No matter what. You’re mine. So is he.” Draco gestured protectively at Harry’s abdomen.

Harry threw himself at his beloved. “I love you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I am never letting you go. Not ever. Of course I’ll marry you.” He kissed his intended thoroughly. Then he had a thought. He turned to Madame Pomfrey to question her again.

“How soon will you be able to determine the baby’s paternity, Poppy?” She frowned, thinking about it. 

“Typically, the baby must be at least twenty weeks into the gestational period before I can extract a blood sample safely. If we make a conservative guess, which is the safer option, I can try it the week of your birthday, Harry.” She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but it likely would, knowing the parties involved. She sighed.

“The Headmaster should know, as soon as possible. I suppose you’ll want to tell Professor Snape, as well?” The two men looked at each other, then nodded to her.

Harry spoke for them both, ignoring the irritated glance his brand hew fiancé shot him from beneath creased eyebrows and furious eyes. “Bring them both here, please. We’ll tell them now, together. Then we’ll tell them we’re doing the paternity test as soon as you say it’s safe.” She nodded and left the room to contact the Headmaster and the Potions Master.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry and Draco were talking quietly, intently when the Headmaster arrived. They had issues that needed to be worked out between them, if their marriage was to succeed. They tabled their discussion when they caught sight of the Headmaster. Thankfully, Snape wasn’t with him. Albus beamed, seeing that Harry appeared to be feeling better.

“I’m glad to see you awake, Harry. What’s happened?” He knew of course, but he wanted them to tell him. Draco took over. Harry huffed at him in annoyance, but remained quiet. Draco was feeling particularly protective; Harry decided to let him, as he was also feeling threatened by the fact that this baby might not be his.

Draco spoke. “Madame Pomfrey has told us that Harry is pregnant.” He wished he could be completely overjoyed by that fact, but the fact remained that he couldn’t. Not until he was able to eliminate the potential threat and complication to his happiness.

Albus’ blue eyes twinkled. He really was delighted for them. “Congratulations, my boys. I’m very pleased for both of you.”

Draco nodded, and continued. “There’s more. Madame Pomfrey’s estimated conception date means that the baby might not be mine. It could easily be Professor Snape’s child. Harry feels obligated to tell him. We cannot determine paternity until the end of July, according to Madame Pomfrey.” His frustration was clear in his voice; he did not want to deal with his godfather. For Harry’s sake, he would. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

The Headmaster’s twinkle dimmed slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that. The next months will be difficult for you both, I’m sure. If there is anything that I can do, please don’t hesitate to call upon me.”

Harry spoke, his voice full of affection. “Thank you, Albus. We’re also getting married. In August. Once we determine paternity. We want there to be no question about the baby’s parentage.” Harry understood Draco’s frustration all to well; it mirrored his own. He also knew they needed to discuss that unsettling comment Snape had made weeks ago. He turned uneasy eyes on Draco, but refrained from bringing it up just now. They had enough to deal with at the moment. 

Albus nodded. “Congratulations. It is a wise idea, to wed, but with a clear understanding of one another.” Draco was frowning at him.

“Can you get someone to handle Harry’s practical lessons? I don’t want him to put himself or my son at risk. He’s being stubborn.” The two young men glared at each other. Harry was confident that a shielding charm would provide enough protection for the lessons he had planned. Draco was not so sure and was being as stubborn as Harry could be.

Albus thought about that. He’d likely need a new DADA instructor for the next year; if he knew his boys as well he thought he did. He’d make some inquiries and see what he could come up with. “I’ll make some inquiries. I should be able to have someone here to assist Harry by the end of next week.” He’d contact Fleur Delacour first; she was married to Bill Weasley and not working, as far as he knew. She might do very well. A couple of other possibilities occurred to him and he resolved to take care of it as soon as lessons were over for the day.

“I’ll take your last lesson this afternoon, Harry. It’s at four, is it not? Would you like me to stay until you talk to Severus?” Harry nodded gratefully. Draco merely scowled and inclined his head. He was angry that they had to go through the motions. That was his child, growing inside of his fiancé and he didn’t care if the baby had Snape blood in his veins or not. 

“I don’t know why we have to tell him. It’s not his child. It couldn’t be. Their magic is clearly not compatible; else they’d still be together. Our magic is compatible, Harry, you know that.” Draco glared at his lover, impatient with his sense of honor and fair play.

Harry sighed. “Draco. If there’s even a small chance the baby might be his, he deserves to know. He may not even be interested, but I will tell him. You will help me. It’s the right thing to do.” He chuckled and kissed Draco’s forehead softly. “Don’t frown, you’ll get lines. I’ll also compromise on the issue of an assistant. It may prove useful; I’ve never been pregnant before, and don’t know what to expect.”

Draco relaxed a little and smiled ruefully at his intended. “I still don’t know why you just don’t let me deal with him. You shouldn’t be upset in your condition and I know he’ll upset you.” He kissed the inside of Harry’s wrist. “I’m going to be very annoying for the next several months, my love.”

Harry grinned. “I know. I’ll learn to live with it. You’ll learn I’m not delicate. It’ll be fine. As soon as we get this unpleasantness out of the way, we can go back to ignoring him again.” Privately, Harry didn’t think so. He didn’t feel anything for man any longer; Draco was clearly already having issues with his godfather.

The Potions Master entered the Infirmary cautiously. He had no idea why Albus wanted him to be here. Unless…maybe Harry wanted him back. Maybe Draco had done something unspeakable to cause Harry to faint and it was all over and he, Severus, could finally be happy again. He could comfort him. Then they could have sex. Snape missed having sex. His mind racing with the possibilities, he advanced into the room. 

He stopped dead in his tracks. Harry was kissing Draco and smiling. Well. That put paid to his pathetic fantasies, didn’t it? He almost left the room in a dramatic huff. He certainly didn’t want to stay and be tortured by his ex lover and his godson snogging for all the world to see. Then Albus noticed him. 

“Severus. Come in.” The tone was civil enough; the intent behind the words was a command rather than a request. He walked slowly over to stand at the foot of Harry’s bed. Harry was lying back against the pillows now, thankfully, resting. His eyes were closed, his face pale. Then he opened them and his expression was devoid of emotion when he looked at Severus. When his eyes turned to regard his new lover, they warmed. Severus missed that warmth. He huffed angrily.

“Well? Why have I been called here? Has Potter managed to get himself cursed again? Do you need a potion? Whatever it is, just tell me, I’ll do it, if only so you’ll leave me be, Albus.” His tone and posture were defeated.

Draco chuckled, a low sound absent of amusement. “Nothing like that, Professor. Harry’s pregnant. He thinks you deserve to know. I don’t. However, I will acquiesce to his wishes. Because I love him.” He took a deep breath, trying to control his temper and not upset his fiancé. Violence would not help Harry’s mood. He wanted to punch Severus Snape in the nose, repeatedly. Instead, he assaulted him verbally, as he’d heard the older man assault Harry so often.

“What? What do you mean, pregnant? He’s a man, for Merlin’s sake. Do you know how rare that is? If that’s my child, then we’re meant to be together.” The Potions Master was nearly shouting, highly agitated, his face red with a conflicting array of emotions.

Draco regarded him coolly; Harry still had not said a word, his eyes flashing between the two men, face anxious. His hand remained firmly clasped between Draco’s. The blond was not going to let go. He would stake his claim, right now.

“I doubt the baby is yours. Clearly, your magic is not compatible. However, there is a chance, according to Madame Pomfrey. I disagree. Completely. At the end of July, Madame Pomfrey will do a paternity test. She will require a small vial of your blood, a small vial of my blood, and several drops from the baby. Once paternity is determined, Harry and I will be married.” He paused, noting his godfather’s pale face and stunned expression.

“Married? What if that child belongs to me?” He was totally unprepared for the next volley. Harry spoke for the first time since Snape had entered the room.

He spat the words as one would spit vomit out. “This child will _never_ belong to you, Severus. It is my child, born of my body. That means, under Wizarding law, that I retain custody. If the child is also yours, you will be granted visitation rights. I will retain custody, with my _husband_. I am marrying Draco. I love him.” He was breathing heavily now, clearly agitated and angry. He shook off Draco’s hand and his murmured plea to calm himself.

His voice was cold as ice; he regarded Snape impassively, eyes showing his rage. “You have always regarded other people, me included, as property, to be used and discarded or ignored as you saw fit. You will not do so with this child. If you cannot be a caring father, I suggest you not take advantage of those visitation rights.” He lay back on the pillows, exhausted from his effort. He waited for the explosion.

Madame Pomfrey’s voice cut through the tension in the room. “Severus. Is there anything you’d like to say?” Her eyes were telling him something no one else in the room could interpret.

“No. There is not.” He thought a moment, a rather shell shocked look on his face. “Yes. I have clearly offended you more deeply than I ever imagined. For that, I apologize most sincerely. I did…do love you. I thought that you loved me in return. I am still deeply regretful that I hurt you so badly that you can now only feel contempt for me.”

He turned cold eyes on his replacement. “If the child is indeed mine, Draco, you will not interfere. I have rights too, you know. I will endeavor to be…civil…to you both and I expect the same civility in return.”

Harry snorted. “You have no rights over me. You never wanted them when they were on offer. You’ll never have them now. You know as well as I do that you have far fewer rights than I do, or than my _husband_ will.” He emphasized the word husband for a purpose.

For years before they’d moved in together, Harry had thought he wanted to marry the man. Always Severus refused to so much as discuss it, saying that things were perfect between them as it was. He didn’t want to disturb their happiness. Harry had finally persuaded the man that it would be good for them to live together, but it had only succeeded in driving them further apart. 

Albus stood there, eyes watching carefully. He would not allow Severus to erupt into outright violence, nor would he allow Harry to upset himself unduly. Still, this conversation needed to take place, if they were to move past the original hostility engendered by the abrupt changes that had taken place over the last two months. 

Draco was glowering from his chair, possessive hands clasping one of Harry’s still. His eyes were stormy; he was just hanging onto his self control. He remained silent with great difficulty, his eyes flashing at his fiancé. Albus guessed there would be words between them later that day. 

Harry spoke quietly; his voice was tired. “I’ll think about what you’ve said. Merlin knows it’s more of an apology than I ever expected from you. Draco and I will discuss things. Just…go now. We’ll discuss it further later. The three of us.” He fixed stern eyes on Draco, then turned them on Snape. 

“I cannot deal with you anymore today.” He turned pleading eyes on Draco. “I know this is hard for you, love. I just can’t talk about it anymore right now.” He sank into the pillows, closing his eyes.

Draco stood, releasing his hand, placing it gently atop the blankets. He bent and kissed Harry gently, murmuring for him to rest, Draco would take care of it; Draco would take care of everything. Harry wasn’t to worry; he needed only to rest until he felt better. With a last brush of his lips across Harry’s forehead, he was moving quietly away from the sleeping man and gesturing for the others to follow.

He fixed steely eyes on his godfather. “You and I will discuss this privately, in a moment.” He turned his frustrated and angry gaze on the other two occupants of the room. “When can he leave, Madame?”

She looked over at Harry’s sleeping form. “If he feels well enough, he can return to his quarters when he wakes up. I want to keep an eye on him until then. He seems quite well for a pregnant man, but I’d like to make sure of that. Emotional outbursts, however, will drain him more quickly.”

She turned again to Severus. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d like to tell them, Severus?” Her eyes warned him that he’d better think it over carefully. His eyes told her to mind her own damned business.

“No, nothing. I cannot prevent that foolish boy from marrying my godson. I can’t do anything, until we know whose child it is.” His tone was defeated. 

Albus put a hand on his shoulder. “Severus. Let the boys alone. They’re happy together. They deserve it.”

Snape rounded on him furiously, not bothering to lower his voice. The sleeping man across the room stirred fretfully at the harsh sound. “What about what I deserve, Albus? I gave more than twenty years of my life in your service, and more than that in the defeat of Voldemort. If that child is mine, he should be marrying me. Don’t I deserve a family, too?” His tone was angry, sarcastic, yet pleaded for understanding. There was none to be found; he’d crossed a line the last time he’d hurt Harry, and well he knew it.

Draco hissed at him, and advanced, eyes flashing. He sneered, “You deserve nothing, Snape. You had him. You lost him, through your own carelessness. He’s mine now. He loves me, not you. He wants me, not you, to raise the child with him. The only reason we’re even telling you is because he insisted. Damn Gryffindor sense of fair play.” He raked a hand through his hair, dislodging the tie that held it in place. 

His eyes flashed fire once more as he let loose his final attack. “If you do anything to upset him, anything to put him or the child in danger, I will hunt you down. I will beat you senseless. I will _destroy_ you, Severus Snape. You leave my family alone.”

Draco’s voice was quiet, in deference to sleeping man who meant so very much to him. He hissed the words, his tone deadly sure. The older man’s eyes widened. Draco Malfoy in full protective mode was a formidable force to be reckoned with. Even Albus looked rather impressed.

“I’m leaving. I don’t have to take this from the likes of you, Draco. I deserve more respect than this.” With a sneer and a snap of his robes, he turned to leave, then shot one more verbal arrow. “I would never hurt him deliberately. Surely even you can understand that.” He didn’t let the tears fall until he was well away. 

Draco sagged in relief as he left. He looked ruefully at Albus. “I’m sorry, Sir. I lost my temper. I will deal with him, privately. He will not upset my fiancé, ever again.”

Albus nodded. “I’d appreciate it if you left my Potions Master in one piece, Draco. I’ll need him more than ever, as I suspect I’ll be losing my DADA Professor at the end of the term.” He looked inquiringly at Draco, who chuckled.

“He’s incredibly stubborn, Albus. I’d like for him to quit now, and take good care of himself. I know he won’t hear of it though. You’ll have him at least through the fall term, if I know him as well as I think I do.” Draco looked distressed at that. He wanted to take care of his fiancé and his child. Harry insisted he was fine.

“Poppy tells me the baby is due sometime around Yule.” Albus twinkled maddeningly. “I don’t suppose you’ll name him Nicholas?” Draco laughed at that. Albus tone turned more serious. “Don’t imagine you can run his life, Draco. He’d come to resent you for it. I’ll watch over him. So will Poppy. So will you. The Weasleys, I imagine, will be ecstatic.”

The two men shared a laugh at that, then Draco blanched in sudden horror. “Oh no. Molly Weasley is going to want to plan the wedding.” He could only laugh helplessly and resign himself to it. He supposed she knew the customs as well as anyone else, even if she chose not to follow most of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry woke up, the Infirmary was quiet and empty. It was near evening, and he felt better, though still drained. Thoughts and emotions skittered through his mind. He was delighted about the baby, scared about the impending birth, uncertain of what to expect during his pregnancy. He was angry with Severus, yet surprised at the man’s willingness to apologize, after Harry had refused him the opportunity for so long. He was more willing to attempt at least civility with him, though he had his doubts that Draco would allow that.

He knew he loved Draco, knew he wanted to marry him. Still, this pregnancy put their relationship in a new perspective. It might very well be too much too soon. He didn’t want to weaken what they’d been building; neither did he want to go through this alone. He needed Draco. He only hoped that Draco needed him as much and wasn’t simply motivated by obligation. He worried, in the back of his mind, about the comment Severus had made during their last confrontation, about Draco not being the faithful type. 

He decided that he needed to know what that meant, if anything. Draco had been extremely attentive over the past two months, but what if his view of marriage didn’t include fidelity to one another? Could Harry enter a marriage that didn’t include absolute loyalty and fidelity to one another? He didn’t think he could. He knew that Draco’s parents hadn’t been faithful to one another; he also knew that Draco’s parents didn’t love one another. Not like he loved Draco, at any rate. Where was Draco anyway? He hoped he wasn’t off harassing his godfather. 

They’d just have to learn to put their hurt and anger aside and be decently civil to one another. Harry couldn’t ignore the possibility that this child could very well be Severus’; if it was, Draco couldn’t afford to let his anger or possessiveness rule him. It would be their undoing and Harry knew it. He and Draco needed to talk, soon, and seriously.

He started as he registered Madame Pomfrey’s presence at the foot of his bed. Her voice soothed him, though. “Draco said to tell you he’d be back in a little while to take you to your rooms. How are you feeling?” She handed him a vial of vitamin potion and set a large flask of it on the table.”

He smiled at her weakly. “Physically, I feel fine. No dizziness or nausea, and I’m hungry again.” 

“I’ll get you a tray, dear. Drink your potion. You’ll need to drink two swallows every morning until the baby comes. It’s not just vitamins, you know. It will help with the nausea and some of the other less pleasant symptoms you’ll experience.” 

He nodded gratefully and drank his drop like a good boy. It tasted terrible, of course; he made a face and she handed him a glass of water with a smile. He drank deeply, closing his eyes. When he opened them, Draco was there, worried expression etched on his features.

“Hello, love. How are you feeling?” He reached out to hold Harry’s hand.

“I’m fine, really. Hungry.” Draco smiled at that.

“If Madame Pomfrey says you can, we’ll have supper in your rooms, all right?” Harry nodded.

“I think we should talk some more about this, Draco. There are things we need to discuss in private.” Draco looked rather alarmed at that, but nodded warily. “Nothing bad. It’s just…this is all rather a lot to take in at once, you know?”

Draco’s face cleared; he smiled and bent to press a kiss on Harry’s temple. “I know, love. It will be all right, I promise.” Harry devoutly hoped he was right.

Draco stepped aside to speak to the medi witch, and soon they were on their way to the privacy of Harry’s rooms. Draco was solicitous; it almost made Harry want to scream that he wasn’t made of glass. He refrained, knowing that Draco was truly worried for his health and safety. As they arrived at Harry’s door, they saw Severus coming from the opposite direction, large flask in his hand. 

A faint half smile crossed his lips; it was clearly an effort for him, as he stilled his features before either of the two younger men really registered it. His voice was remarkably calm when he spoke. 

“You left your potion in the Infirmary. I thought I’d bring it to you. Poppy told you? Two swallows every morning. I’ll try to do something about the taste, if I can. There’s about a month’s supply here.”

Harry looked at him steadily and took the flask from him. “Thank you, Severus. I appreciate that.” He carefully avoided touching the other man.

Beside him, Draco tensed, clearly wanting to reject his godfather’s slight overture outright, but knowing that wouldn’t serve any of them well. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He resolutely refrained from speaking.

Snape looked uncomfortable. “You’re welcome. Let me know when you’ve got a few days’ worth left. It takes most of a day to prepare.” He opened and closed his mouth, clearly wanting to say more, but not daring to.

Harry said again, “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Severus shifted uncomfortably. Harry leaned unobtrusively against Draco for support. Some of the tension left the blond man’s body at that. “Yes. Well. Good night.” Snape turned on his heel and strode off down the corridor.

Harry sagged. He whispered, “That was harder than I thought.”

Draco’s voice was laconic, slightly jealous. “Why do it at all? I can take care of you.”

Harry spoke his password and they were both inside before he spoke. “I know you can. I can take care of myself, you know. I need you, but I’m not dependent on you. I wouldn’t want to be, and I don’t think you’d want me to be, not really.”

Draco smiled at that. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t want him anywhere near you.” His eyes lit as he gazed at his intended. “I love you. I’m jealous, all right? I admit it.”

Harry sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to him. “Come here. Sit down, please.” Draco did. Harry kissed his cheek, then sat back and regarded him seriously.

“I love you. Do you trust me? He’s part of my past, in that way. He’s part of my present in that I have to work with him. You are my future, Draco. Unfortunately, so is he, in that we work together. Also, he might be this baby’s biological father, Draco. It’ll be easier on all of us if we can just be civil. It takes a lot of energy to maintain anger, Draco. I’d rather not, if I don’t have to.” He took Draco’s hands in his, willing him to understand.

“When you and I began to fall in love, it didn’t take me very long to see how very unsuitable my relationship with him was, and had been for years. Living together made things worse, not better. However, my living with him prompted you to realize some of how you feel for me.” He smiled at his lover.

“It wasn’t all bad, you know. We were quite good friends before we almost destroyed each other. I’d like to be, if not friends, at least friendly with him, at some point. I know that drives you slightly insane.” His green eyes, serious and brimming with love for Draco, bored into the other man’s.

“It doesn’t have to, love. You have nothing to worry about, nothing to be jealous of anymore. I would never betray you, never be unfaithful to you.”

Draco took a deep shuddering breath. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear those words. He caught Harry up in a fierce embrace. “I know, my love. I know. I’m a bit irrational on the subject. I’ll work on that, I promise.” He let Harry go so he could breathe a bit, then regarded his love with equal seriousness.

“I do trust you, all right? More than I’ve ever trusted anyone. I put my trust in you during seventh year and you’ve never let me down, not once. This is different, though. I trust you. I know you love me. Him, I don’t trust at all. He wants you back. It drives me crazy, a little. I know you don’t want him, but it still bothers me.” Draco’s eyes were unhappy and Harry wanted to kiss him, hold him, do something, anything to drive that look out of his eyes.

“I had a talk with him this afternoon. It didn’t go particularly well, but we’re both still alive. He told me what he said to you. He was dissembling. I have not been, nor will I ever be, unfaithful to you. I love you. I would never betray you. You can trust me. I’ve never cheated on anyone I was with. I’ve been cheated on, but that’s entirely different.” Harry’s eyes were brimming with tears. 

He whispered, “I do trust you, Draco. How did you know that’s what I wanted to talk about? I didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding pathetic. I didn’t want you to think I believed him; I didn’t, you know. He was angry, hurt, jealous. But I needed to talk about it. How do you always know what I need?”

Draco laughed, shakily. “Because I love you. How do you always know when I need to talk, and when I need to be silent? When I need to be taken down a notch, and when I need your support? How did you know, that very first morning, how I liked my coffee without my having to tell you?”

Harry laughed at that last bit. “I love you too. I only knew about the coffee because I like mine the same way. You fixed the first cup, remember? I wondered then, how you knew, but you didn’t, did you? You just fixed it the way you like it.”

Draco nodded, grinning at him. “Good thing we like it the same way, then.”

Harry’s expression turned serious again. “You know, it’s going to be rather intense, starting a marriage with a baby already on the way.”

Draco nodded, tightening his hold on Harry’s hands. “I know. We haven’t been seeing each other for very long. However…” He paused, and smiled blindingly at his beloved.

“However, I love you, and you love me and we will work out between us whatever happens. Even if that baby you’re carrying isn’t mine. We’ve never lied to one another and I don’t intend to start now. It upsets me. I can handle it, but it upsets me.”

Harry leaned to kiss his cheek again. “I know. It upsets me too. I don’t particularly want to have that tie with Severus. If we do, though, then we do. We have about seven months to learn to be peaceable with him. Less, really. Once the test is done, things will be clearer.”

He paused, to clear his throat. “I want to marry you, Draco. I want nothing more than to spend my life with you, and I’m as certain of that, even after so short a time together, as I am that I wasn’t meant to spend my life with him, after all those years we spent together.” He paused again, face pale.

“I will understand if you want to wait awhile, though. Really. It’s a lot to take on, and I understand that. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” He was miserable, saying those words, but he knew they needed to be said.

Draco stood, began to pace. Finally, he turned to look at Harry. “I love you. I would have married you at some point anyway. I’m certain of that. I would like to wait until August, though, for several reasons.”

He sat down, put his arms around Harry, and kissed him gently. He ticked his reasons off on his fingers. “One. We need to settle the baby’s parentage, for the reasons I gave you earlier. Two. We need more time to settle into our relationship, to build it strong and true and solid. Three. Molly Weasley will need time to plan the wedding.”

Harry sat back, wide eyed. “How did you know she’d want to? Moreover, why are you letting her?” Draco ruffled his hair fondly.

“The Weasleys are your adopted family. Therefore, they are my future in laws. I’ve resigned myself to it.” He rolled his eyes in mock frustration. “They’re not so bad, really. I quite like Hermione and the twins.” He chuckled a bit, then continued.

“I know what I want. You know what you want. I still think we should wait a bit, get used to the idea. Together.”

Harry echoed him. “Together. I like the sound of that very much.” He crawled into Draco’s lap, kissing him thoroughly until his rumbling stomach reminded him that they had yet to have supper. He let Draco’s lips go reluctantly. “I’m starving. Can we eat now?”

They had a rather quiet meal, both lost in thought. Near the end of the meal, Harry realized that something else was bothering him, and he wanted to get it cleared up, if he could. Meal over at last, he watched his lover speculatively. Would Draco let him do this? He suspected that Draco’s response would have a great deal to do with setting the tone of their relationship. 

“Draco.” His tone was sensuous, promising, inviting. His eyes were lit from within, with purpose and resolve, as well as passion. Then he simply stared until Draco’s undivided attention was fixed on him, his gaze clearly appreciative. Every nerve ending taut, he made his move.

He rose and advanced on his lover, an almost feral glint in his eyes. He growled softly and stood so close to Draco that he could feel the heat emanating from him in waves.

His voice was almost hard. It was demanding and sure of itself. “We need to discuss one other thing, I think.”

Wide eyed with mingled apprehension and arousal, Draco nodded. Licking his lips, he restrained himself from mauling his fiancé. The man was incredibly sexy when he was like this. Draco wanted to see more. Wanted to touch, taste, caress, kiss more. Instinct told him to remain seated.

Harry was beautiful, he thought to himself hazily. That tousled black hair against the soft gold of his skin. Those glowing green eyes seemed to promise Draco the world and more. His rounded features and sensually full lips never failed to make Draco dry mouthed with want. His Seeker’s body was broader than Draco’s own, more powerfully muscled, and just a bit shorter. Draco liked that; it made him feel protective. The man’s thighs could squeeze coal into diamonds, he thought, still hazily. He realized he was all but drooling and made a conscious effort to focus on his fiancé.

Harry continued, infusing the words with equal parts desire and certainty. “In previous relationships, I felt like a piece of furniture. Owned, but never valued. Earlier today, you said that I belong to you, the baby belongs to you.” He took a deep breath and growled again. “You belong with me, Draco Malfoy. We belong to each other.”

He sat himself abruptly on Draco’s lap. His hot mouth claimed Draco’s in a bruising kiss that stated his ownership clearly. His tongue swiped across Draco’s bottom lip, demanding entrance. Gasping, Draco granted it. Sharp teeth nipped his bottom lip as Harry plunged his tongue in and out of Draco’s mouth, claiming him. His hands grasped Draco’s shoulders, pulling his lover into a hard embrace. 

Still kissing fiercely, they began to undress one another. Soon, bare torsos were pressed up against one another. Their moans grew louder. Harry tore his mouth from Draco’s and grabbed his hand. He hauled the blond up and led him purposefully towards the bedroom. Once there, he swiftly divested Draco of his remaining garments and stepped out of his own. He led an acquiescent Draco to the bed, lay him gently back on the pillows and climbed on top of him. 

Harry was so aroused he thought he might explode. He was determined to express himself through this loving act of mutual passion and possession. He nipped at Draco’s earlobe, then licked the small hurt, reveling in the sound of Draco’s moan. He laid a trail of hot, wet, biting kissing from behind Draco’s ear to his collarbone. His questing lips found the pulse in the hollow of Draco’s throat and sucked strongly, leaving his mark there. His fingertips traced Draco’s ribs and collarbones, slid down to cup his hips, stroking the hollows he found there. 

His hands caressing every part of his lover’s overheated flesh that he could reach, he kissed and licked, nipped and sucked his way down Draco’s long, lean, sexy body. He made brief stops to tease nipples to aching hardness and to swirl his tongue in Draco’s navel, eliciting a sharp groan of pure need.

He settled himself between Draco’s legs and looked up, meeting his eyes. Never breaking eye contact, he opened his mouth and swallowed his lover whole. In one smooth stroke, he had Draco’s aching hardness buried in his throat and his nose buried in the soft nest of silky dark blond hair that guarded the base of his cock. Then he flexed his cheeks and Draco howled for him. 

His tongue came into play as he bobbed up and down, swirling across the tip with each upstroke, teasing the underside on each down stroke. When he felt Draco’s bollocks tighten, he abruptly pulled off, swiping a long lick from the base of his cock, down his perineum, and over his aching puckered ring of muscle. He teased the rosette for long torturous moments, sliding across the heated flesh, then plunging inside. He licked and sucked until his lover was writhing beneath him, then stopped, again abruptly.

Draco cried out, “Ohgods, Harry. Harry. Please. More. Now. Fuck me.”

Harry growled low in his throat. “I will.” He reached for the lubricant they kept handy and wasn’t stingy with it. He slicked up his first two fingers and thrust them inside his lover, scissoring and stretching, making sure to brush over that delightful bundle of nerves that always made his lover shudder and cry out. He added another finger and continued to stroke in and out of his lover, demanding entrance to his body.

He stroked the lubricant over his now aching prick and poised himself at the puckered and relaxed entrance to his lover. He pushed, just a little, and teased Draco with just the head of his cock. Suddenly, in one smooth stroke, he seated himself balls deep in his lover. Exercising enormous self control, he held himself still, leaning down to claim Draco’s lips in a hot, wet, sloppy, altogether delicious kiss. Meeting his eyes, he half moaned, “Not to you. With you. I belong with you. You belong with me. We belong to each other. Equal partners, Draco.”

Draco nodded, unable to form words. His eyes told Harry everything he needed to know. Slowly, never losing sight of his lover’s face, he began to thrust, hips pumping steadily, slowly. He waited for Draco to cry out, to beg for more. It didn’t take long. 

Draco’s drawn out cry of, “Harry. Please. I need you. Fuck me, please. Harder. Faster,” set Harry aflame. He thrust strongly, harder and faster, setting an almost punishing rhythm that had them both groaning with need. Higher and higher they flew, lost in their passion, lost in each other. Draco’s hoarse cry signaled his climax, spurting hot sticky fluid between them. His already tight passage clenched maddeningly around Harry and he lost control, emptying himself into his lover’s body. Pulse after pulse drained him. His thrusts lessened in intensity, grew irregular with spent passion. 

At last, he collapsed carefully on top of his lover, kissing his sweaty temple, brushing the now damp hair out of his eyes. He rose up just enough to look Draco in the eyes again and repeated, “Not to you. With you. I belong with you. You belong with me. We belong to each other. I will not be your possession, Draco. I will be your lover, your fiancé, your husband, and the father of your children. I will be your equal partner, as you will be mine. We will not own one another.” He kissed Draco with all the pent up feeling in his soul, showered his love on this man who meant the world to him, willing him to understand.

Draco smiled sleepily at him. “Equal partners, to love, honor, cherish and care for. Till death do us part. With you. Not to you. I understand now.” Harry carefully slid himself out of Draco, turned and gathered him into his arms. Draco’s arms and legs wrapped around him. Harry sleepily mumbled the cleaning spells, pulled the covers up over them and they tumbled into dreams of their future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Down in the dungeons, Snape was alternately pacing and drinking; taking long pulls from a bottle of Ogden’s Finest while he wore a hole in his hearthrug. To say that he was flummoxed, gobsmacked, utterly in shock would have been a remarkable understatement. His ex lover was pregnant, and thought there was a chance the child could be his. Harry had made a point of doing the right thing, over the objections of his fiancé. Snape’s expression shifted to one of utter disgust. He couldn’t believe, quite yet, that the insolent whelp was actually going to marry his smarmy git of a godson.

Snape snorted and sneered at the same time, a remarkable feat of coordination for a man who was well on his way to being completely pissed out of his mind. If they were meant to have a child together, it would have happened years ago. The very idea of he and Harry being mutual parents to a living being was utterly ridiculous. Like as not, they’d be trapped in a miserable marriage by now, despising each other. He snorted again, more quietly and sadly. Not unlike the relationship they had today, come to think of it, minus the legal entanglements, of course.

Did Harry harbor feelings of affection for him? Was that why he insisted on telling Snape of this pregnancy? Was he trying to manipulate the situation so that he, Harry, could regain Snape’s affections? Perhaps he regretted leaving Snape, now that he’d had time to think about it, and two months spent in the company of another man. He considered that thought for split second before discarding it as ridiculous in the extreme.

Of course Harry didn’t want him back. He’d made that quite clear in a hundred different ways since he’d taken up with Draco. It was insult enough that he’d gone from Snape directly into the arms of someone younger, someone more beautiful, someone with social skills. But to take up with his very own godson was positively Slytherin of the boy. Snape didn’t know how he’d managed to swallow his anger, his fury, his pain, for so long. He didn’t know how he’d manage to continue to do so for the rest of his life.

When he was sober, Snape knew this was no manipulative scheme perpetrated by Harry, or by Draco, for that matter. Neither of them was in the habit of deliberately hurting people, even when they deserved it. In his more rational moments, Snape knew that he was reaping what he’d sown. Years of inattention to that which he valued most had caused him to lose it, irrevocably. 

However, three sheets to the wind as he was, Snape was able to make himself believe that Harry had fallen in love with Draco for the sole purpose of adding insult to injury; specifically to humiliate and anger Snape. It had worked, beyond Harry’s wildest dreams. Again, he considered that Harry’s dreams were now centered on a certain blond haired, stormy eyed, young, powerful and beautiful man. Along with his child; let us not forget for an instant about the child, Severus. He sneered at himself, disgusted by his inability to just let it go. He didn’t want to let Harry go, although he did realize that the decision was not his to make; had, in fact, already been made, by Harry himself.

Snape knew, to the depths of his being, that he had not fathered that child. Still, he’d play along with the possibility that he had. Harry seemed to think the idea had merit of some sort. Snape would go along, until he found out what Harry’s true motivations were. If he had any hidden agenda, Snape would root it out and deal with it. Then perhaps his life could get back to the way it had been for the past decade. Severus would have his solitude, his research, his miserable and often malicious sense of social interaction with his peers. Along with these, he might have his Harry back.

In the tiny sliver of sobriety left to him, he knew that Harry was not his, had never really been his. There had been a time when the boy had been willing to be his. Snape had missed that opportunity, ruined it, turned it to so much ash, as he’d ruined nearly everything else good in his life. His drunken mind, nearly insane with jealous agony, allowed him to believe that he had a hope in hell of getting Harry back, in convincing the boy that he was worth loving again, if he ever had been in the first place. 

Oh, Snape was going to be in a foul temper, to be sure, when he awoke the next morning. The throbbing hangover was the least of his problems. In the cold light of day, he was going to have to rationalize the decision he’d made that day in the Infirmary. He was going to have to fight with himself on a daily basis between tomorrow morning and July, to keep from revealing his own secrets. He knew that he should. He knew that, if he truly loved Harry as he claimed he did, he should reveal that which he did not want to think about.

He could not. Harry’s assumption, fuelled by Madame Pomfrey’s diagnosis, was the only thing keeping Severus Snape clinging to the thin edge of sanity. Just for now, he would allow himself to think about what it might be like if that child was indeed his. Just for now, he would allow himself to wonder what a child of his blood might be like. What bright promise might be contained in that child, if Snape’s innate cunning was combined with Harry’s innate courage and inherent kind and noble nature? What expiation might he be able to achieve by summoning the last of his moral strength and learning to be a caring parent to that child?

He did not notice the tears running reluctantly down his face. He did not, could not, allow himself to face facts and begin to resolve the reality of his life as it was now, in his delicately balanced mind. No, it was much easier to simply blame his godson for his current problems.

If Draco hadn’t been at the pub that evening, when Harry was so vulnerable, so angry with Severus, then perhaps Harry would have come to his senses and come home before the weekend was through. If Draco hadn’t chosen to take advantage of an emotionally ravaged Harry, perhaps they’d be together now, curled up in their warm bed. His thoughts drifted back to that last disastrous conversation with his godson.

Draco had knocked once on the door to his chambers and entered without further warning, furious, shaking, red faced. He was determined to protect his lover from Snape at all costs. He did not seem to care that Snape was his godfather and the only remnant of family the young man had left in the world. No, he was far more interested in the sweet piece he had waiting for him in the Infirmary. He was putting sexual gratification above family loyalty. It wasn’t to be borne. 

He’d spoken of his love for Harry and for the child. He’d reiterated his determination to raise the child as his own, even if he wasn’t. He’d shouted that Snape would never be allowed to warp a child of Harry’s, not ever. He’d stated that he believed Snape wasn’t fit to care for an animal, much less a child. It had gotten worse from there. Snape, completely sober at the time, did not defend himself, did not fight back, refrained from so much as a sneer.

He knew he deserved every vitriolic drop of his godson’s ire. He knew he had no right to be angry that Draco was evidently capable of giving Harry what he himself had never known the boy wanted or needed. He knew that his jealousy was unfounded at this point. If Harry had ever really been his, he was not now, and he never would be again. Severus had driven him away; he hadn’t the faintest idea how to get him back, nor the strength to make the attempt. He knew he had no skill for courting. Had Harry not courted him relentlessly for years, their relationship would not have gotten as far as it did.

It was so much easier, so much safer, to simply close himself off, remain locked away in his dungeon, where life was well ordered, simple, without emotional upheaval. An infinitely sterile life it was, but Snape was comfortable in it, and there he would remain. Sometimes he wondered if Harry had pursued him simply because he needed a new challenge in his life, once Voldemort was disposed of. Snape supposed there was more truth to that statement than he wanted to think about.

Even still, he had loved the boy, in his fashion. Even still, he missed his warmth, and his laughter. He missed their lovemaking, though Snape supposed that wasn’t really the appropriate term to use. He missed having an able and willing assistant at his beck and call. He missed the sense of someone caring about him. He did not know how to care in return, or to show that he did, by word or deed. He was too old and too used up to learn and well he knew it.

The sensible thing to do would be to go to Harry and Draco, confess all, and wish them well. Severus Snape was not a particularly sensible man. He was prone to irrational fits of anger, had a tendency to over dramatize every aspect of his life, and he always looked out for himself first and others incidentally. Perhaps he’d be able to at least gain Harry’s friendship back, if he kept his counsel and tried to be open to this absurd possibility that had been placed before him. He’d somehow managed to gain Harry’s friendship before, without trying. Perhaps he could do it again. Then perhaps Draco would stop resenting him, and they could resume their somewhat indifferent godfather and godson relationship. 

Severus resumed his pacing, wondering when his personal life had become such an empty ruin without his noticing. Then he supposed it had always been this way, except for the brief periods when he’d tried to let Harry inside. As he continued to drink and get closer to the oblivion he sought, he decided that he preferred an emotionally void ruin to the emotionally painful landscape littered with sharp and base emotions that he’d inhabited recently. Once again, Severus was reminded that loving people inevitably led to pain that made the Cruciatus look like a walk in the park by comparison. 

One last pull and the bottle was empty. Severus stumbled to his cold and empty bed. Falling upon it, he told himself he preferred it this way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry woke up slowly, lazily the next morning. Sleepily, he turned to wrap an arm around his fiancé’s waist. Then his stomach rolled and he was bolting from the bed, racing for the bathroom, and losing the contents of his stomach. Weakly he retched, over and over again. He was immensely grateful for the soft wet flannel stroking across his brown and down his cheeks. He was comforted by the strong arms that held him close and stroked his hair. He was warmed through by the murmured words of comfort from his beloved.

When it was over, they showered together, Draco handling him with infinite care and concern. In his turn, he soothed his lover’s aches and pains away with hot water, soft touches and infinite love. He thanked Draco quietly for his support, his love and his understanding. When Draco responded with a kiss and a murmured ‘equal partners, my love’, Harry knew that he’d been understood and accepted, found worthy of his beloved. His embrace to Draco was fierce and tender, conveying that he found Draco worthy indeed of the partnership they were forging. His murmured words of love and respect had Draco glowing with pleasure.

Quietly, they shared the morning meal. Draco asked him what his plans were for the day, and listened to his explanation of the shielding charm he planned to use until an assistant could be found. He told Harry that he’d be ‘round for lunch, to see for himself that Harry and the baby were well and healthy. 

Harry asked Draco what he had on his plate that day, and made suggestions as to how best to lighten the load. They were thoughtful and informed, aimed at easing his fiancé’s fears that he would be buried in work, unable to spend time with Harry. At Draco’s reminder, he took his vitamin potion, and instantly felt better than he had. 

The two men talked quietly over their second cups of coffee. Draco said that they needed to plan an engagement party. Harry said he and the house elves would take care of it, since he had more time to do so. Draco agreed to that, knowing that Harry would do the thing properly. He had a rather more complete understanding of Wizarding society now than he had before, and was more than up to the task. Draco trusted him enough to let him get on with it. 

A half hour later, the two men parted for the day, each well pleased with the other. Each felt they’d gained a greater understanding of one another, and of themselves. Each felt themselves more secure, more loved, more loving than they had before. A combination of honest words and heartfelt actions had cemented the bond they chose to create between themselves. Born of passion, and infatuation, born of proximity and mutual enjoyment of one another’s company, their initial feelings had deepened, grown beyond all recognition, into love. Both made the conscious decision to nurture that love, to care for it, to allow it flower fully. Both knew the potential had always been there, within themselves, waiting for them to notice it and to make the conscious decision to follow what their hearts and their magic told them was right.

TBC

Coming Soon – Part Four  
Untitled as yet.


	4. Part Four - Larger Than Life

Title: Larger Than Life Part Four, follows ‘Handle With Care’, ‘Contents Fragile’ and ‘Do Not Open Until Yule’.   
Pairing: HP/SS, HP/DM  
Warnings: language, sexual situations, slash of course, emotional trauma, angst, Mpreg – yes, it’s obvious now. *smirk*  
Rating: NC-17, probably…pause…oh yeah   
Summary: Severus, in a moment of careless cruelty, destroys the one thing he’s always needed most. Can he get it back? Harry has moved on, and refuses all overtures. Draco and Harry concentrate on their relationship...then Harry is taken ill, suddenly. He’s quite surprised to learn of his condition, as are Draco and the others around them. Chaos ensues as our happy couple tries to plan their future together.

A/N: Oceans of gratitude to my writing partner, Laura – she’s as twisted as I am (that’s a compliment) and came up with some lovely plot devices to get this story where it wanted, and still wants madly, to go. She’s generally horrified by some of my ‘what ifs’ but always listens and makes suggestions that I find valuable. 

A/N the second: Thank you so much for the wonderful, thoughtful reviews that have come in response to this story. I really appreciate them; y’all have prompted me to develop this concept as fully as I can.

Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re JKR’s. They should be mine. They want to be mine. However, they’re hers. I just have sordid rendezvouses with ‘em from time to time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry headed for Albus’ office. He wanted to discuss this whole assistant business with him further. He knocked on the door and was admitted readily. To his surprise, Remus and Ron were already there. He’d clearly been outmaneuvered while he was still sleeping. He sighed, and sat himself down, smirking at his two friends. They both looked bemused. Harry turned to Albus; the twinkle in his eye matched the Headmaster’s.

“I suppose you’ve told them? Did anyone faint?” Harry was grinning now.

Albus’ voice was bland. “No one except you has fainted recently, Harry.”

Harry turned to his friends. “It’s true. I’m pregnant. Draco asked me to marry him; I said yes. We’re waiting until August.” He grimaced. “I suppose Albus has told you why?”

They both nodded uncomfortably. Remus spoke first. “Congratulations, Harry. I’m very happy for the two of you. Surely you don’t think that child could possibly be Severus’?” As usual, he got right to the point. 

Harry looked down, then into the eyes of his de facto godfather. “Poppy says it’s possible. I don’t know all that much about Wizarding pregnancies. If she says it is, then it must be. I’m going to the library later. I need to learn more.”

Remus nodded. “The magic of the parents must be compatible. Do you think your magic is compatible with Severus’?”

Harry shook his head. “No. During the war, our magic was oppositional. It was effective for killing Voldemort; I’m not so sure that would extend to making a child together.”

Ron snorted. “Of course it wouldn’t. Still, I can understand how you’d want to be sure before committing. I can’t imagine what I’d have done if it had been Hermione in your position, mate. I’m sorry. We’ll help you, and Draco, any way that we can, all right? Congratulations, by the way.”

Harry scowled. “It’s not about being sure; we’re getting married regardless of who actually produced this baby. We just want his parentage to be clear before we get married. You know, for inheritance reasons.” He grimaced. “Not my favorite thing to deal with, but this is reality.”

He knew Ron wasn’t particularly fond of his fiancé, but they were trying to get along better. He appreciated the attempt, from both of them. He grinned wickedly. “We’re going to need your mother’s help for some of this. Draco says he’s sure she’ll want to plan the wedding. Perhaps she’ll consent to help plan the engagement party, as well?”

Ron flushed and nodded. “Draco said he was agreeable to that? I’m surprised. Pleased, but surprised. She considers you a son, and would be heartbroken if she didn’t get to plan something.” He tried to smile. “This makes Malfoy…I mean Draco…my brother in law, doesn’t it?”

Harry grinned and nodded. “I’ll owl her in between classes today to ask if we can come to see her and Arthur soon. I’d rather tell her myself, and in person, if you don’t mind.” Harry’s voice was serious; the Weasleys were the closest thing he had to parents and he wanted to show them the proper respect for their place in his life, by handling himself in a socially proper manner.

Ron nodded. “I won’t even tell ‘Mione unless you say I can.”

Harry grinned. “We’re invited to supper tonight, so we’ll tell her then. Besides, I want to tell my goddaughter in person.” He adored little Maggie and felt a need to spend some time with her now, in view of his new circumstances.

Albus interrupted as smoothly as he could. “Gentlemen, lessons begin in half an hour. We’ve much to discuss. Could we get on with it, please?” The old man’s eyes were twinkling with pleasure.

The three of them chorused, “Yes, Albus.”

He sat back with satisfaction. “Harry, I think it would be best for Remus to be your assistant in the coming months. Ron has agreed to take over his classes, so that he is free to help with yours, and he will be available when Remus is indisposed.” He held up a hand to stop Harry, who had begun to protest that he didn’t need any assistant anyway.

“You promised Draco that you would allow us to help you. Your son is precious indeed, and we cannot take any chance of harm coming to him, or to you. Draco will be satisfied with Remus as an assistant; he has vast DADA experience, he’s most protective of you, and he’ll be less likely to be led into mischief by you.”

Ron snorted indignantly, Harry with amusement; he knew Albus was right. Ron would let him get away with murder, and Draco would be unhappy about that. Which irritated Harry a bit, but he’d learn to live with it.

Albus smiled blandly at the three men, who flushed, knowing he was correct in his assessment. “Splendid. It’s settled them. I’ll just owl Draco and let him know.”

Harry grinned at that. “He made you promise, didn’t he? Let me add a line at the bottom?” Albus nodded, smiling, and passed the parchment to Harry, who scribbled two lines full of love and acquiescence.

The three men left Albus’ office moments later. Classes went well for the morning. Harry’s shield charm held up well, and Remus was invaluable; he had a willing dueling partner to demonstrate various defenses with. They had quite a lot of fun that morning, all in all. Harry managed to avoid giving detentions, and assigned a good deal of homework, so he knew his students would be busy that evening.

At lunch, a large glass of milk and a note appeared in front of Harry’s plate. He read it with a smile before downing the entire glassful with a grimace. He really didn’t care for milk, but he’d drink it, for the baby, and to please Draco.

_Harry love,_

_I’m going to be late, but should be able to stop by during your free period. Are you all right? How are you feeling? Any problems during lessons?_

_Remember the publishing house I bought last year? I’ve been trying to get it under control ever since. This morning I had to fire the head of the textbook division and several of his underlings, hence my tardiness. Do you think Hermione would be amenable to a job change anytime soon?_

_I’ve asked my secretary to compile a guest list for the engagement party; he’ll be in touch with you directly in a day or two. We’re still on for dinner with the Weasleys this evening, right? I think I’d better meet you there, but I’ll know more by the time I see you this afternoon._

_Be careful. Eat your lunch. If you don’t feel well, rest and let Remus handle your lessons. I love you. I love our son. I’ll see you in a few hours._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

Harry read the note and glowed. True, Draco wasn’t here, but Harry could feel his love and concern, even in the midst of his latest business crisis. He tried hard not to be annoyed at the milk glass. Harry knew perfectly well that he needed extra calcium; he did not need Draco to treat him like a child. Brushing aside his irritation, he handed Ron the note to read, then fished a piece of parchment out of his pocket, along with a quill. His answer was brief, but to the point.

_Darling Draco,_

_I’m fine. I feel marvelous. We love you too, both of us. No problems during lessons, or at all, in fact. I’ve no idea if Hermione would want to leave the Ministry or not, but we can talk to her about it this evening. Ron’s nodding at me, so I’m guessing she’d be willing to listen. Yes, I drank my milk. I’m rolling my eyes at you, can you tell?_

_I’m sorry your work is difficult today. I’ll make it better when I see you. My office period is at two, so come there, will you? I’ve owled Molly Weasley to ask her and Arthur to dinner soon, so we can start planning things._

_I’m being careful. I feel wonderful, honestly. I miss you._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

He was just folding the letter when he felt the stare on the back of his neck. He didn’t know how long Snape had been standing there, but it was too long, in any event. He sighed. He’d been having such a lovely day.

“Professor Potter. Your fiancé is curiously absent. Is he neglecting you already?” The sneer was evident in the man’s voice. 

He turned sideways and looked calmly at Snape, refusing to rise to the bait. “No. He’s a busy man. He’ll be here later. You really should stop trying to undermine him. It won’t work and it makes you look a fool, Severus.”

The older man had the grace to flush at that. “My apologies.” The tone was mocking, negating the reluctant words. “Are you quite well today, Professor Potter?”

Harry smiled blandly. “I feel wonderful. The vitamin potion is a great help; thank you again. Aside from that, I have an able assistant to help me in the classroom and I am engaged to the most wonderful man in the world, so yes, you could say that I am indeed ‘quite well’, thank you.”

With an injured sniff and an indignant swirl of robes, Snape was gone, having absolutely no response to that. Harry sat back, relieved. He wasn’t going to allow Snape to harass him. He began to think it simply wasn’t going to be possible for them to attempt civil conversation. Severus didn’t seem to be able to pull off civil very well. Rude and sarcastic; that he did very well indeed.

Harry really couldn’t blame him, but he wasn’t about to put up with his nonsense, either. Snape was going to have to learn to be polite, or be silent. Harry didn’t care which, but he was completely finished with allowing Snape to push his buttons.

Harry was sitting quietly in his office, munching absently on a plate of apple slices and cheese and grading papers, when Draco arrived. He strode to the desk, tipped up Harry’s chin, and kissed him thoroughly. Harry smiled, returning the caress with enthusiasm.

“Hello, love. How’s your day going?” He snapped his fingers and a platter of sandwiches appeared on the desk, along with a pot of tea. “Sit, eat. Rest a bit, Draco; you look tired.”

Draco sank down and began to eat. A moment later, he was able to speak. “Thank you, love. My day was perfectly miserable until I saw you. I can’t wait for it to be over.” He continued in between mouthfuls, alternately complaining and discussing the situation with his fiancé, who had several logical suggestions to contribute. Draco felt much better a half hour later, stomach full, worries shared, and fiancé before his eyes, glowing with health.

He reached out and stroked his hand across Harry’s abdomen. “Hello, little one. How are you today? Papa loves you.” He flushed a bit at Harry’s chuckle. “What? You’ll be Daddy and I’ll be Papa. It’s reasonable, and he’ll be able to tell us apart.”

Harry nodded in agreement, still chuckling. “It’s marvelous, love. Have you thought of names? I know its early days, but I thought we could start discussing it a bit. I was actually wondering what you thought of calling him Lucius James or James Lucius.”

Draco’s eyes went wide, considering this. He kissed Harry softly, reverently, then sat back, eyes glowing with love. “You’d allow a child of yours to be named after my father, who was Voldemort’s right hand man?”

Harry’s voice was soft. “Whatever else he was, he was your father, and you loved him, Draco. I don’t have a problem with using his name to honor that love.”

Draco was silent for several moments. “I think James Lucius sounds better and will be an easier name for our son to bear. If you’re agreeable?”

Harry kissed him, a smacking sound of affection. “I like it. Thank you, love.” 

The softly cleared throat startled them both. Harry didn’t move away from his fiancé when he saw who it was. Snape stood there in the doorway, looking uncertain for perhaps the first time in Harry’s memory.

Harry greeted him courteously. “Good afternoon, Professor Snape. Can I help you with something?” Draco growled almost inaudibly, but nodded at the older man. He thought he succeeded in hiding his irritation; he was wrong, but Harry let it slide.

“I…you…” he stopped, confused. “You’ve decided on a name for the child already? Isn’t that a bit premature?”

Harry scowled. “No. It’s not. If my son is found to also be your son, we can discuss names at that point. Not before.” He shot a mild glare at the Potions Master. “Did you need something else?” 

Snape nodded, cleared his throat several times, and began. “I simply wanted to satisfy myself that you were not in danger of fainting again. I see your fiancé is here, so will leave you in his capable hands.”

Harry smiled faintly. “Thank you, Severus. I appreciate your concern.” He cleared his throat meaningfully and squeezed Draco’s hand.

“Ah…yes. Thank you, Severus. I’m here now, but I’d appreciate you keeping an eye on him when I’m not. You know as well as I do that he’s a trouble magnet.” Draco shot an affectionately exasperated look at his love, who snorted unrepentantly at him.

To their surprise, Snape chuckled and made a noise of agreement. “Indeed he is. You needn’t worry so. He’s got Remus in the classroom, Ronald at meals, and everyone else watching out for him, as well.” He paused, then thought of something else.

“Have you decided when the engagement announcement will be made? You should make it soon, don’t you think?”

Draco nodded, going along with this new and civilly courteous Snape, for the moment. “We’ve got to talk with Molly Weasley, but I’m thinking next weekend would be the best time.” He looked inquiringly at Harry, who murmured an agreement.

Snape nodded. “I will endeavor to clear my busy social schedule so that I may attend, if that is acceptable to you both.” Severus was not going to tell them about the vehement dressing down he’d received from the Headmaster for his less than stellar social skills. Let them think what they wanted. He was merely trying to escape the wrath of Albus, he told himself firmly. 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Of course. Are you sure?” Snape nodded and turned to Draco, who sighed imperceptibly and nodded in turn.

Snape cleared his throat again. “Well then. I’ll leave you two to get on with…whatever you were getting on with.” He left as quickly and as silently as he’d come.

Draco and Harry simply looked at each other, wide eyed. Then Draco chuckled. “I wonder if Albus has him under Imperius?” 

Harry grinned. “Doubtful. Even if he is, it’s better than his previous behavior.” He leaned over to kiss his fiancé lovingly. “I’m very proud of you, love. I know it’s not easy for you to deal with him.” 

He licked Draco’s earlobe softly, delighting in the other man’s low moan. “I love you. You are the most important person in the world to me, Draco.”

Draco took a deep, shaky breath. “Our evening at the Weasleys had better end at a reasonable hour, Harry. I want you. Now. I’ll wait, but I don’t want to.” He kissed Harry possessively. “I love you. You and that baby are the entire world to me.”

The two men embraced for long moments, then, mindful of the time, parted reluctantly. Harry had a lesson in a quarter hour and Draco had a mountain of work to get through. Harry decided to walk him to the gates, and left a quick note on the board for Remus.

The two men strolled easily through the castle and out onto the grounds, immersed in their conversation. They made plans to view the Malfoy wedding rings and the Potter wedding rings, so they could decide if they wanted to wear either set or choose their own unique ones. They discussed what they did and did not want their engagement announcement part to consist of. All too soon, they were at the gates and Draco had to go. Harry kissed him softly and turned to walk back inside.

He supposed the exercise would be good for him, and for the baby. He was still feeling a bit tired by the time he got inside. He stopped in his classroom to ask if Remus minded finishing the lesson for him. Remus didn’t so he went upstairs for a nap. He awoke three quarters of an hour later feeling much better and finished his classes for the day without further incident. Most of his mind was occupied with personal matters, but he was able to deliver his lectures without incident, and got through the demonstrations ably, with Remus’ assistance.

He began to wonder if he was going to be able to finish this term, much less be able to teach another one beginning next September. He supposed he’d be big as a house by then, with a snort of amusement. The summer would be busy. Draco’s birthday was in June; they’d celebrate that with a party, he decided. He had to give exams a few weeks later, including OWLS and NEWTS as he had fifth and seventh year students who were sitting the exams. Then there was the paternity testing to get through, his own birthday, and their wedding. He supposed they’d have a honeymoon too; he hadn’t thought of that before today, but he knew Draco would want one.

Harry began to feel overwhelmed. They hadn’t even discussed where they were going to live, though he supposed it would be at the Manor. He knew Draco wanted him to stop working at the end of this term. Feeling his fatigue that afternoon, he began to agree with him. He chuckled; Draco would be surprised to know that. He’d been adamant just yesterday that he was fine. 

Harry resolved to discuss the whole situation regarding his teaching with Albus, Remus and Ron first of all; they would be the most affected by any changes he needed to make. He’d wait a week or two, though, to see if this fatigue lifted some. He wanted to finish the term if at all possible, in order to give Remus more time to peruse his lesson plans and get used to teaching DADA again. He’d already resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be teaching for much longer. He would miss it, but he was looking forward to his and Draco’s life together. 

He made another mental note to discuss his work with Draco, along with Draco’s work. Perhaps he could help him in some fashion, so he wouldn’t be completely inactive for the remaining months of his pregnancy. After the baby was born, he did not want the child raised by nannies and tutors; neither of them did. Still, he thought there was a great deal he could do to assist his future husband and still be there for their child. He was deeply committed to being a supportive partner as well as a loving father. He knew that Draco was equally committed; they’d work it out so that they both had as much time as necessary with their child.

He began to think it would be a good idea to be away from the castle. It might lessen the tension between Draco and Severus, though he knew the older man would not like it. Snape’s opinion didn’t really factor into their decisions, though. It might be better for them to attempt to move past the disaster of their relationship in another setting, anyway. He wondered if Draco would agree to attempt to resume his godfather/godson relationship with Snape at any point. He hoped so. Sort of.

Part of him didn’t want to deal with Severus Snape on any level. The other, more practical side of him knew that wasn’t going to be possible. It would be best for all concerned if Draco could resolve his jealousy and anger and go back to the relationship he’d previously had with Severus. It would be best if Severus could get through his own feelings of rejection and hurt, so that he and Draco, and he and Harry could simply be friendly to one another. 

Harry didn’t know if that was possible. He knew that he himself could do it. He truly did not love Severus any longer, and wondered if he ever really had. He supposed so, but with so little response from the man for so long, those feelings had died rather quickly once stressed beyond bearing. He knew that he loved Draco with all his heart and found himself often regretting the time he’d spent chasing after a nebulous dream with Severus, when what he wanted and needed had been beneath his nose for so long. 

Philosophically, he supposed that things happened the way they were supposed to. There had been valuable lessons for him to learn while he was enmeshed in his relationship with Snape. Having learned them, he’d moved on. He hoped that Severus could learn something from the memories of their relationship, too, and move forward at some point. Harry hadn’t been able to make him happy, and that rankled at times, but he did not begrudge the man any happiness he could find in the future. How could he, when he was so happy himself these days?

As the last class ended, he brushed his thoughts aside; they were entirely too complicated and he was tired again from the long day. He went back to his rooms and promptly fell asleep on his couch. He hadn’t thought he’d overdone it that day, but perhaps he had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco sat behind his organized, but impossibly full desk, in his businesslike office, and pinched the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to stave off the impending headache he felt behind his eyes. Sometimes he wished his father hadn’t been quite so good at amassing wealth, or a business empire. Then again, he did enjoy the benefits that went with the work, so he supposed he’d live through this latest crisis.

The publishing house was in a shambles, at least in the textbook division. He owned a broom factory in Leeds that was experiencing labor problems; he supposed he’d have to replace the manager with someone more competent, so that employee turnover would stop being so high. He owned a jewelry shop in Diagon Alley. Someone was stealing from the till and he had to find out who it was, since the manager was evidently incapable of doing so. He also owned two restaurants and a bar in Diagon Alley; that was a drama or crisis each and every day. 

He sighed heavily, missing Harry, wishing for his support and advice. His fiancé had proven surprisingly astute with regard to business matters, possibly because he was so skilled at dealing with people. Draco wished he could convince Harry to leave his position at the end of the school year and help him manage things instead. Perhaps he could; he didn’t know, but he’d try. He didn’t know who was currently managing the Potter holdings, but made a note to find out. He thought that his fiancé’s holdings were primarily in farmland and agricultural ventures. Combining the Malfoy and Potter interests would give them both more than enough to do, he thought.

His accountant was expecting and wouldn’t be back after she had her baby, so he had to find a new one. He hoped she’d be able to complete the quarterly tax returns that were due to the Department of Magical Revenue at the end of next week. He vaguely remembered Weasley telling him once that he had a second cousin who was an accountant; perhaps they could discuss that further this evening.

He really wanted Hermione Weasley to head up the textbook division of his newest acquisition. She was the smartest person he knew, and he could admit that now, when he could not have ten years before. He hoped Harry would help him convince her. He’d pay her triple what the Ministry was paying her, if only she’d take the blasted thing off his hands. The other divisions were running fairly smoothly, with few staff changes being needed. He hoped. 

Draco sighed heavily and rang for tea. He’d take ten minutes to relax, then tackle the paperwork in front of him. His thoughts, as they often did, turned to his fiancé and their future. He wanted Harry to move in immediately, so he could take care of him and the baby. Realistically he knew this wasn’t possible. Harry would insist upon finishing the term, at the very least. He contained his annoyance with some difficulty; the man was as stubborn as Draco was himself.

He hoped Harry would consent to living at the Manor. Draco couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, though he supposed he’d try if Harry insisted. He knew that Harry had a house at Godric’s Hollow. He supposed they could use that as a summer retreat, it being close to Wales and the seashore. The children would like that, as would he, truth be told. Draco was determined to have at least one more child; he hadn’t liked being an only child, and Harry had said he wanted more than one child.

His secretary entered just then, tea tray in hand. Draco drank gratefully, discussing pressing matters with him and reading the guest list that had been handed to him. He scribbled a few more names on it and approved the list, instructing the man to make a copy and send one to Harry the next day. He resolved to discuss matters with Harry in a week or two, when the current press of business problems was behind him. 

Several hours later, he finished for the day and apparated directly to the Weasleys. Harry wasn’t there yet, so Draco headed to Hogwarts to find him, hoping he was all right. Arriving in Harry’s rooms, he smiled tenderly at the sleeping man and went to wake him with kisses. They’d be late, but Harry obviously needed the rest. Draco’s libido heated up at the sight of wide green eyes gazing so lovingly into his own. Perhaps they’d be a bit later still, he thought with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were quite late for supper, thought Draco an hour later. He stretched in the bed, listening to Harry in the shower. Reluctantly, he rose and dressed. Harry had been so pale when he first arrived. He looked much better now, thought Draco with a whistle and smirk as a damp Harry emerged from clouds of steam. While Harry dressed, Draco used the floo to let Hermione know they were on their way. She beamed at him, and mentioned that the elder Weasleys were also on their way.

Harry, having caught the end of the conversation, made an approving noise. “Good, we can tell them and get started on party plans.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He wasn’t so sure the Weasleys were going to be thrilled with their news. He also wasn’t sure Harry was up to spending a couple of hours enmeshed in planning, but Harry said he was fine. Draco sighed and supposed he was, at that.

They stepped into the floo, it being the safest way for Harry to travel while he was pregnant, and stumbled out an instant later. Draco smiled uncomfortably at his future in laws, who were frankly gawking at him. Harry dusted himself off and filled the awkward silence admirably. 

He moved to hug Mrs. Weasley and shake Mr. Weasley’s hand. “Molly, Arthur, it’s so good to see you both.” He kissed Mrs. Weasley on the cheek. “You remember Draco Malfoy, don’t you?”

Smoothly, he greeted them, betraying none of his inner nervousness. Harry saw it, judging from the comforting squeeze of hand on hand he received, but no one else did. Draco turned to greet Ron and Hermione, noting the elder Weasleys’ surprise at his apparent ease with their younger son. They weren’t truly comfortable together, but they were getting there.

Soon they were ensconced in the sitting room, sipping aperitifs. Harry, thankfully, didn’t argue when he was given pumpkin juice instead of liquor. Mrs. Weasley spoke first, her face expectant. “Ron said you had something to tell us, Harry?” As was her wont, she was direct, with no dissembling and little small talk.

Harry grinned, and replied, “Yes. Two things, actually. Draco and I are getting married in August. Also, I’m pregnant.” He grabbed Draco’s hand and waited for the fireworks. Molly didn’t let him down; she never did.

The motherly woman flew at her adopted and adored seventh son, hugging him fiercely, tears in her eyes. “Congratulations! A baby, how wonderful.” She pulled back and frowned a bit. “Didn’t I teach you about contraception, young man?” 

Harry laughed at her. “Nobody ever mentioned that pregnancy was an option, Molly, given my orientation.” She flushed at that, realizing it was something she took for granted. She turned to Draco, a warm smile on her face.

“Welcome to the family, Draco. I won’t stand on ceremony, as we’re to be related soon. I’ve heard good things about you from these three.” She gestured behind her at the former Golden Trio. Then she was hugging Draco and he had never been quite so surprised in his entire life.

His voice was husky when she finally let him go. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I’ll take very good care of him.”

Molly beamed at him. “You must call us Molly and Arthur, as Harry does. Now, children, tell me everything.”

The conversation was lively for half an hour. Molly and Arthur expressed sympathy at the uncertainty of the child’s parentage, but stoutly agreed with Harry that they could handle it and have another child if they wanted to, so that both of them would have an heir. They agreed with Harry, however unwillingly, that Severus deserved to know his child, if it was indeed his child. They agreed with Draco in that it didn’t seem likely. 

Molly told them that, once a wizard had conceived for the first time with another wizard, their chances of doing it again were the same as any other average fertile couple’s. Harry and Draco looked at each other in relief, resolving to bring up the topic of additional children at a later date. Harry wanted as many as they thought they could raise effectively. Draco wanted at least two, he thought.

Draco asked Molly, rather formally, if she’d consent to help them plan their engagement and wedding. She sniffed happily, threw her arms around him again and agreed. Draco supposed he could get used to the exuberance and the touching. That simple act, coming from Draco himself, cemented his place in her affections, as Harry had told him it would. Not long after, Arthur was shaking his hand and telling him quietly that he admired Draco’s business acumen. The conversation, though brief, was warm and boded well for the future. 

Just as they were going in to supper, a small whirlwind entered the room, dressed in purple footed pajamas. Harry chuckled as the whirlwind climbed into his lap, shouting joyfully. “Uncle Harry! Missed you!” The mite placed a smacking kiss somewhere between his nose and his chin.

“Hello, Maggie. I missed you too, lovey.” He kissed the top of the child’s head. She was amazingly active, thought Draco with a wince. She had bright red hair and bright brown eyes. Her features were a delicate mix of both her parents. She was petite, and had an amazing vocabulary for not quite two years old. Her voice was easily as loud and raucous as her twin Uncle’s ever had been when Draco was in school. She never seemed to stop moving. With a gulp, Draco wondered if all children were like that.

Harry was snuggling the small girl, and Draco’s heart turned over. He couldn’t wait to hold their child in his arms. Then he was being introduced to the whirlwind. He greeted her gravely, with a small smile. She really was adorable, he thought. “Good evening, Miss Weasley. Margaret, isn’t it?”

The mite scoffed and climbed into his lap. “I’m Maggie. You’re Uncle Draco. Uncle Harry said so.” Then she placed a smacking kiss on his cheek. Draco found himself grinning like an idiot and ruffling her hair. 

“I am indeed Uncle Draco, Miss Maggie. You are quite charming, little one.”

Hermione and Ron were beaming proudly. Harry was grinning at him. He stage whispered to his fiancé. “She’s an impossible imp, but so cute no one can resist her.”

The imp was indignant. “I’m not!” Harry laughed at her. “Cute is for babies! I’m a big girl.”

Harry told her there was a baby in his tummy and she was back in his lap at once, much to Draco’s surprised regret. He’d enjoyed holding the little girl. She was patting Harry’s tummy gently, talking to the baby. Draco was entranced.

Her mother took her moments later, protesting every step of the way, to her bed. Supper was rather informal, but warm and delightful. Draco found himself enjoying the simple but plentiful food, and the company of the people who would be his in laws. 

Draco found a moment to approach Hermione about the job he wanted to offer her and they made a lunch date for later in the week to discuss it. He found another moment to talk privately with Ron and reassure himself that the red head was watching over Harry and would continue to do so. He gave Ron and Hermione, and Ron’s parents, his direction at the office, so they could get in touch with him quickly if necessary. As the evening ended, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“That went well, don’t you think?” Draco’s voice was dry, masking his insecurity. Harry grinned cheekily at him and kissed him softly.

“Yes, love. I’m very proud of you.” Draco smiled at him, stroking his back. They were snuggled up on Harry’s couch, talking lazily.

He admitted. “I rather like them; all of them. Maggie must be quite the handful. Are all children so…active…do you think?” Harry chuckled.

“I don’t know, love. I rather think children model their parents, so perhaps ours will be a bit quieter, at least.” Harry grew pensive.

“I hope this child is yours, Draco, and I think he is. Even if he’s not…” Draco shushed his fears with a loving kiss and comforting words.

“The biology doesn’t matter love. Even if he has Snape’s genes in him, he’s still my son. He’s part of you, and for that alone, I will love him to distraction.” Harry kissed him gratefully, and they went to bed shortly thereafter, knowing the issue wasn’t entirely resolved and would not be until July.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next three weeks passed quickly. Harry continued to feel queasy and fatigued. He took to napping after lunch and Remus handled more and more of the preparation and practical aspects of his classes. Harry was grateful and told him so several times. Hermione decided, rather abruptly, to take the job Draco offered her and was preparing for the change after giving her notice at the Ministry. Professor Grubbley-Plank was enticed out of retirement to take over Ron’s chores as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, so that he could go back to working with the twins and caring for Maggie. 

He and Maggie came for lunch every day, to check on Harry. Draco was there most days, too, keeping a watchful eye on his fiancé, and getting to know his new de facto niece. He found himself more patient than he’d ever thought he could be, and he quite enjoyed the little girl’s company. She in turn treated him as warmly as she did everyone else and he reveled in the innocent affection from the little girl.

Snape was being remarkably civil, for Snape. Draco didn’t allow himself to get too comfortable with that, being acutely aware of the other man’s desire to have Harry to himself. It wasn’t until the day before their engagement party that he truly began to understand that Severus was no threat to him anymore. He was late arriving for lunch and only caught the very end of the conversation, but it was enough.

The weekend before, Harry and Draco had looked over all the Malfoy and Potter jewelry. They found none of it to be quite right either in terms of symbolism or style, so they’d chosen to have brand new bonding rings made. In view of the time constraints, they commissioned the shop that Draco owned. The head artisan had come through admirably.

The hand fasting portion of the bands were lovely. They’d chosen platinum with a single stone of fused garnet and emerald, to symbolize the characteristics of them both. They’d picked the rings up only that morning; Harry was inordinately pleased with them, and showed his off to everyone that would look. When they married, the hand fasting rings would be surrounded by twined bands of gold and silver. They’d chosen the two precious metals to again symbolize characteristics of both of them, and their relationship. 

Draco, approaching the Head Table, saw his fiancé and his godfather, sitting next to each other, apparently deep in conversation. The chair on the other side of his future spouse was empty and Draco stood behind it, every nerve taut, wanting to know exactly what those two had to talk about. 

Snape was speaking quietly, unaware that he had an audience now. “I really am sorry, Harry. You look so…settled and content. My godson looks well, too. I hope he’ll be able to forgive me.”

Harry’s voice. “Give him time, Severus. He’s a bit insecure right now. Not about my feelings for him.” Harry chuckled. “Gods know I adore him, and Draco knows it too. No, he’s going to be rather insecure until the paternity testing is done.”

Snape’s voice turned sober. “I know. I wish I could reassure him, but I’m certain he won’t listen to me right now. I have no intention of trying to take the child from either of you. I just want to spend time with him, if he is mine. Even if he’s not, I’d like it if I were allowed to know him, Harry.”

Harry’s voice was absolutely even. “I know. I can’t tell you how he’s going to react, and I won’t decide something so important without him, Severus. I hope that he’ll want you in his life as his godfather, when all this is resolved, but…I just don’t know.”

Draco decided he could afford to be generous, since he was feeling so enormously pleased at that moment. He placed a gentle hand on Harry’s back and leaned to kiss him. Harry started, but smiled warmly at him, returning the caress unselfconsciously. Draco spoke first to his beloved. “How are you feeling, love? I missed you. Is there any lunch left?”

Harry nodded, eyes sparkling. “I’m fine, I promise. I missed you too. I’ll call for a plate for you.”

Draco then turned to his godfather and smiled faintly. He didn’t miss the other man’s indrawn breath of surprise. He spoke quietly. “You are still my godfather, whatever else happens. Harry’s right, though. I’m not going to feel comfortable with all of this until the testing is done. I know it’s silly; he’ll be my son regardless, and possibly yours too, but it’s how I feel. I’m trying, all right?”

Snape nodded. “So am I. It’s all we can do, right now. Please understand, I will not interfere or overstep the boundaries you set. I can see for myself how beneficial you are for one another. I’m certain you will be excellent parents.”

Draco nodded. “We are good for each other. Thank you.” With that, he took his seat and ate his lunch, talking quietly with his fiancé. They were ready for the party the next week, though nervous. There would be reporters, of course, as both men were newsworthy on their own. Harry would always be the Boy Who Lived Twice in the eyes of the wizarding world. Draco was a respected and influential member of the wizarding community. He’d worked hard to erase the legacy his father had left behind, and had largely succeeded.

Lunch over; Draco escorted Harry upstairs for his afternoon nap. Harry’s abdomen was becoming ever so slightly rounded. Draco caressed it absently, earning a warm smile from his intended. Harry reminded him that they had an appointment with Poppy the next morning for a check up. They again discussed their immediate future. Harry told him he would finish out the term. Remus had agreed to teach DADA full time after that, and Draco was grateful to the man.

They’d agreed so far on almost everything that needed to be sorted out. Harry told Draco he rather liked the Manor, although there were parts he wanted to redecorate. Draco told him to do whatever he liked. Draco broached the subject of merging their holdings to make managing them more efficient; they agreed to table that discussion until after their engagement was formally announced, though Harry agreed it was a sound idea.

Harry himself brought up the house he owned in Godric’s Hollow, stating that he didn’t want to live there, but wouldn’t be averse to using it as a vacation home, as long as Remus could continue to spend his summers there. That was an agreeable plan for all parties and one more issue resolved between them.

Draco broached the subject of Harry assisting him with work, and Harry took it up with alacrity. They spent hours together already discussing business and entertaining clients. They agreed on the fact that they did not want full time nannies raising their children, but reluctantly acknowledged there would be times when they would need someone to look after the baby. Harry told Draco he’d ask what Hermione did with Maggie and they’d figure it out from there.

Harry was yawning as they climbed the last staircase and arrived in his rooms. Draco tucked him in and lingered for a few moments, watching his fiancé sleep and caressing his abdomen as he thought of their future. Everything was going so well, he couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop. It didn’t occur to him that they had yet to begin planning their wedding. It was a task that would bring most men to their knees, the able assistance of Molly Weasley notwithstanding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day of their hand fasting dawned bright and clear. Harry had taken the entire day off from lessons, in order to be sure all was in readiness; also to polish the joint statement they were giving the reporters. Harry was pleased with it; it combined their expectant joy with a sort of dignified friendliness. They did not mention the potential parentage of their child by consent of all parties involved. Harry sighed, deciding again that it was the right thing to do. There would be time enough to deal with the reporters about that if they had to, and why borrow trouble, really?

They were having the affair at Malfoy Manor and Harry arrived there soon after breakfast to double check that everything was in readiness. He’d already made some changes to the house, bringing warmth to the cold formality of the public rooms, while maintaining the Malfoy history displayed there. It was amazing how a simple change of draperies or carpet could strip a space of its harshness, thought Harry with a smile as he began to see his own personality added to the rooms.

He conversed with the house elves endlessly, fussing over the menu, the place cards, the seating arrangement, the flowers, and the music. He’d moved some of his personal possessions in already, and some of his more formal clothing. He thought to himself that he’d need larger robes soon. His abdomen was getting larger every day, it seemed. Poppy had told him that it was perfectly normal, and pronounced him and the baby very healthy indeed. That seemed to calm some of Draco’s fears; he was hovering a bit less, at any rate.

The hand fasting ceremony itself would be simply and elegantly brief. This was a rather intimate affair, when contrasted with their wedding, which would be huge and elaborate in the best pureblooded wizarding tradition. The Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones, would perform the ceremony and register their engagement. She would be presiding over the marriage ceremony, as well.

They’d chosen a simple, beautiful ceremony. It required they each have two witnesses to the union. Harry had chosen Ron and Hermione. Draco had chosen Pansy Parkinson, which annoyed Harry to no end. He tried, but he just couldn’t find anything to like about the snobbishly aristocratic woman. He’d chosen Albus Dumbledore as his other witness, much to Harry’s surprise and gratification. 

They were going to speak their own vows to one another at the start of the party, then spend the evening, most likely, caught up in the receiving line that Molly insisted on, saying that it was proper, given their respective social standings. She and Arthur would stand in as parental figures for both young men.

Finally, Draco was home and they were about to begin. The music swelled and they walked, arm in arm, to stand in front of Minister Bones, who congratulated them quietly before they started.

The Minister was speaking the necessary words, making them legally betrothed to one another. Draco distinctly heard happy tears from behind him. Harry was looking at him, eyes shining with joy as Draco spoke his promise to him.

Draco’s voice was steady and sure, warm with love, and crackling with his own joy. 

_I, Draco Thuban Malfoy, am asking you_  
Harry James Potter, to promise to join me as my life partner.  
As we travel life’s journey together, I give to you my heart,  
my pledge of fidelity and truthfulness, my commitment,   
and the freedom to soar, as we learn to merge our lives. 

_With this ring, I pledge to come together with you again._  
Completing our troth, and vowing my eternal, depthless love for you.  
At a time and place of our choosing, before the year is old.  
I ask you to wear this ring as a visible symbol   
of our intention to wed, in a quarter year’s time. 

He slid the ring gently onto Harry’s finger, mouthing the words ‘I love you’. Then it was Harry’s turn. His voice was certain and firm, slightly rough with the depths of his love for this man.

_I, Harry James Potter, am asking you,_  
Draco Thuban Malfoy, to promise to join me as my life partner.  
As we merge our lives and spirits, I give to you my heart,   
my pledge of steadfast constancy, my love, my care,   
and the freedom to be yourself, always, as we learn to live as one. 

_With this ring, I pledge to come together with you once more_  
To complete the ties begun today, and to vow my unending love for you.  
Before the year is old, we will become one, a family of our own choosing.  
I ask you to wear this ring as a visible symbol  
Of our intention to wed, in a quarter year’s time. 

Harry slid the matching ring onto Draco’s finger, smiling mistily. They looked at each other solemnly, feeling the intense warm comfort of the commitment between them, and intoned. ‘I so promise’ in unison. The rings warmed and glowed briefly, signifying the purity of their intention towards one another. Their brief kiss was achingly sweet, sealing their intentions for the people gathered to share their joy.

Minister Bones was congratulating them, then, and applause broke out. They turned to face the gathered crowd, smiling happily. Their arms wrapped about each other’s waists and they moved to their allotted places, signaling the end of the ceremony and the beginning of the receiving line.

Draco could tell that Harry was tiring, halfway through the throng of people wanting to wish them well. He was glad they’d kept it fairly small and had dealt with the press that afternoon. He signaled Ron Weasley, who obligingly brought a stool over for Harry to sit on. Harry smiled gratefully and subsided. He got tired so easily these days, he thought with a small frown. He was approximately three months pregnant, by Poppy’s best estimate that morning, and he wondered what was in store for him in the coming months.

Finally, people stopped shaking their hands and they were able to announce supper. Draco walked in with Harry, watching him carefully. Once he began eating, his color returned and Draco decided to allow him to stay at the party. He was learning not to smother the other man, but still wanted to be sure he didn’t overexert himself.

They strolled amongst the various groups of chatting guests, exchanging pleasantries and accepting good wishes. Draco kept a hand on Harry’s back at all times, his constant presence a source of comfort to Harry. They stopped to thank Molly Weasley profusely for the work she’d put in on this party. She’d taken care of most of the details, and supervised the house elves as they prepared so quickly for such an elaborate affair. She’d recommended the string quartet playing in the background, too. Harry and Draco quite liked them and engaged them for the wedding as well.

She and Ginny had made the centerpieces, as well. They were lovely lacy things, consisting of two fire rosebuds, a white rose, and a deep red calla lily, all arranged in small crystal vases. Harry tucked one carefully away to preserve for their offspring. As he turned to say something to his fiancé about it, Harry slid silently to the floor. He clearly was finished celebrating for the evening.

Draco, to his credit, didn’t panic. He simply picked Harry up and strode to their bedroom. Ron and Molly followed him. He asked Ron quietly to get Madame Pomfrey and sent Molly off to see their guests out. Then he sat next to Harry and waited patiently, a worried expression marring his features. Harry stirred moments later, before Madame Pomfrey even arrived. Draco silently handed him a glass of water and he drank it gratefully.

Poppy ran her wand over the young man and pronounced him fine, if exhausted. She recommended a day or two in bed, which Harry protested to weakly, saying he had lessons to attend to. Draco was nearly beside himself, biting his lip to keep from taking Harry to task. His health had been a source of friction between them for the last two weeks and Draco didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to restrain himself. 

Poppy regarded the pregnant man sternly. “Young man, you are having a baby. Your lesson are covered, unless you question Professor Lupin’s competence?” Her eyebrows rose as she stared him down.

Harry subsided, flashing an apprehensive look at his fiancé. Draco was being awfully quiet. He suspected he wouldn’t be for long. “No, it’s not that. I just wanted to finish the term.”

Draco couldn’t take it anymore. His voice sharp, he asked, “Is the damned term more important than our son? More important than your own health, Harry? Please, be reasonable. You’re going to end up miscarrying if you don’t slow down.” His voice broke, betraying just how upset he was. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, either of you. Will you please stop teaching and let me take care of you?”

Wide eyed, Harry was opening his mouth to answer, when another voice cut through the tension. It lacked its usual sarcasm, and there was not a sneer in sight. “I agree with Draco, Harry. This pregnancy is clearly taxing your strength and resources. You need to rest, you need to take care of yourself and that child. The school will survive without you, I assure you.” Severus Snape was in the doorway, looking sternly at his ex lover, concern etched on his features.

Harry threw his hands up. “I can’t fight you both. I don’t really want to,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry love. I’ve been pigheaded about this. I’ll tell Albus that I can’t teach anymore. I’ll move in immediately.” Draco’s look of relief and gratitude lit his entire being.

“Thank you, love. I just want you to carry this baby to term safely. I’m not trying to run your life, I swear. I’ll have Dobby pack your things if that’s all right?”

Harry smiled weakly. “I know. I love you. That’ll be fine. I haven’t the energy to deal with it.” 

Draco turned to regard his godfather. “Thank you, Severus. It’s good to know he can’t fight us both. Was he always this stubborn?”

Severus laughed shakily and nodded. “Yes. He’s an impossible brat; occasionally he’ll see reason after awhile. If you repeat it to him often enough.” 

The two men laughed at Harry’s indignant scowl. “Hello. I am still in the room.” He was privately amazed at the lack of animosity between them, but was not going to do anything to upset it. 

Severus spoke again. “Albus is still downstairs. Shall I have him come up?” Draco and Harry nodded and Severus disappeared.

Poppy began to instruct her patient. “Rest. Eat small, frequent meals. Avoid stairs without an escort. Take your vitamin potion every morning. I’ve got something else for you to take in the afternoons, to help you sleep. You need all the sleep you can get, Harry, while your body adjusts. No heavy lifting, no flying, no Apparating. Let Draco take care of you, for Merlin’s sake.”

Harry nodded and smiled at Albus and Remus, who had just entered quietly. He told Albus what they had decided, glancing apologetically at Remus, who told him not to be silly, he vastly preferred teaching DADA to Care of Magical Creatures. They discussed Harry’s lesson plans for the remainder of the year and Remus promised to visit often and keep him up to date.

Finally the house was empty of guests and Harry was nearly asleep. Draco slid in beside him and gathered him into a loving embrace, spooning them together. He whispered, “I love you so much, Harry. I couldn’t stand to lose you. Please promise me you’ll take better care of yourself.”

Harry nodded sleepily and squeezed the arm resting possessively over his wait. “I’m sorry, love. I thought I could handle it. I’m not yet used to having someone care as much as you do. I love you too.” Unable to process anymore thought that day, he slid abruptly into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next months were fraught with tension. Harry chafed at the restrictions placed upon him, but got used to them. As May turned to June, he felt a resurgence of his old energy, and was able to plan a lovely birthday party for Draco. It was done entirely in secret and Draco was so pleased that he allowed Harry to stay up an extra hour past his bedtime. 

They argued from time to time, but they learned to work things out between them. Harry stormed into Draco’s office one morning in high dudgeon. Draco regarded him with amusement, to his everlasting regret that evening, when Harry fell asleep before he could get so much as a proper cuddle out of the man. He remembered that conversation rather fondly.

“I will NOT wear white robes at our wedding, Draco Malfoy. Stop snickering.” Harry was so indignant he was shaking. “It’s indecent, and not true besides.” He patted his stomach, which had swelled impressively in the last two weeks alone.

Draco schooled his features to soberness, belied by the humorous twinkle in his eyes. “Relax, love, it’s traditional. You’ll be gorgeous in them.”

“No.”

“Please. For me. Did I thank you again for my lovely party?” Perhaps gratitude would work.

“Yes, you did. Stop misdirecting. No, I will not wear them.” Harry was pouting now.

Draco sighed. “Fine. How about cream, then?” Harry nodded, surprised that he’d won so easily. 

There were other arguments, about everything from the food to the flowers to the guests. That, Draco would not give in on. They were lying in bed one evening, and Harry was whinging.

“Do we have to invite Pansy Parkinson? She hates me, and I’ll be huge by then. I can just see her condescending look now.” 

Draco frowned. “Harry. She is one of my oldest friends. Her father is a business associate. I can’t not invite her to the wedding.”

Harry sighed. “I know. I had to try, though. I just don’t like her very much, love.”

Draco nodded. “I know.”

“It’s all right. I understand. I won’t interfere either. You’re allowed to have your friends, even if I don’t like them.”

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t see Pansy often, but he did see her, and it was a comfort to know Harry didn’t intend to fuss about it anymore. As the pregnancy progressed, so did the mood swings. Draco was at his wits end trying to strike a balance between keeping Harry content and making sure he didn’t lose his mind. He loved the man to distraction and found him generally level headed and reasonable, unless the hormones came out to play. Then, it was a nightmare trying to keep him on an even keel.

At the end of June, Harry was likely four months along, although they couldn’t be precise just yet. Draco privately wondered just how large his fiancé’s abdomen was going to get. It didn’t seem as though the skin would stretch any further. He knew it had to, though, as they were not quite halfway through the pregnancy. Harry began preparing a nursery for the baby, just across the hall from their suite.

He chose the rooms because they were cozy and easily accessible. There was a bedroom, a playroom, a child safe bathroom, and another room that was supposed to be for a nanny. Harry left that room alone for the time being. Draco left him to it; it occupied him safely and Molly was there to help with transfiguring the walls and such. 

By mid July, the nursery was ready. It was painted soft greens and yellows, with a nursery rhyme theme. Harry had shopped for the furniture from catalogs, soliciting Draco’s opinion. Draco didn’t really mind what sort of furniture their son had, and he suspected the baby wouldn’t either, but he good naturedly looked at Harry’s choices and pointed at the ones he liked most. 

Draco went to the vast attics at the top of Malfoy Manor one day and spent the morning locating the family heirloom cradle he’d used as a baby. He had it cleaned and polished and installed in their bedroom for convenience’ sake. He reasoned it would be easier for both of them to care for their son in the middle of the night if they didn’t have to stumble across the hallway to do so.

The swell of pregnancy in his fiancé, impossible as it seemed, got even larger by the time the nursery was done. They had two weeks until Poppy could do the paternity testing. They’d managed to speak to Severus about it several times without overt hostility. Their relationship seemed to be relaxing into one of guarded friendliness. Sometimes, Draco even thought he’d got his godfather back. Until he remembered that the man might also be the father of Harry’s child. 

It was difficult for him to think of the baby as Harry’s child. He truly felt as though it was his child too, and prayed daily that it was. He knew he would be bitterly disappointed if the baby turned out to be Severus’ issue. He told himself he’d manage just fine, but in the still of the night, he wondered if he really could be that generous. Then Harry would turn over sleepily and kiss him or slide an arm around his waist, and he knew that he could. He knew that he would do anything he had to do to keep this man in his life for all time.

If that meant swallowing his resentment and raising another man’s child, he’d do it and be happy that they could at least have another child of their own. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though. He pushed down his uncertainty and looked at himself honestly. He’d grown a great deal in the past few months, and he knew that somehow, he would find the fortitude to love that child and care for him no matter who his actual parents were.

July thirty first loomed. Both of them grew quiet and pensive in the week before the scheduled test. Harry had declared he didn’t want a birthday party that year; he felt huge and ungainly and was not, frankly, very much of a people person just then. His ankles were swollen. His back ached. He was cranky and out of sorts, although no longer queasy, thank Merlin. He had to use the loo roughly every half hour and he found that quite irritating. He found himself clinging to Draco at every available opportunity. He worried almost constantly about the results of the test. He desperately wanted the child he carried to be of Draco’s blood.

The day before the test, Harry was sitting in Draco’s office answering correspondence for him as Draco worked on various budgetary papers. Harry felt an odd roll in his abdomen and frowned. Then he felt it again. He placed a cautious hand on the swell of his tummy and pressed gently. A look of wonder and joy suffused his features. Softly he called, “Draco, come here, please.”

Draco looked up irritably. The blasted numbers were not cooperating. With a sigh he rose. “Are you all right?”

Harry was smiling beatifically at him. “Yes. Come here.” He took Draco’s hand, placed it on his abdomen and waited. “Do you feel it, love?”

Then Draco did. He felt a soft, gentle fluttering, softer than butterfly wings, but distinct. He smiled softly and knew in that moment that all his fears were absolutely groundless. All his resentment, real and perceived, potential and present, melted away at the first tangible sign that their child was a living, breathing human being. He loved this child. “He’s moving, isn’t he?” Draco ran his hand gently across the swell and was rewarded with an answering flutter.

Harry grinned. “That’s our son, saying hello to his parents.” They smiled wordlessly at each other, then Harry joined their hands across his tummy and they played with their son.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning came, inevitably. Silently they ate breakfast, silently they dressed and took the floo to the Infirmary at Hogwarts. Silently, Draco gave his vial of blood. A few moments later, Severus entered cautiously and stood before Poppy, giving his vial of blood, too.

Madame Pomfrey bid Harry to lie down and instructed him to relax. She left him for a moment to retrieve an unfamiliar wand. Returning, she explained what was to happen. “I’ll hold this wand over the baby’s leg, once I determine by scan exactly where it is. I’ll retrieve no more than six drops of blood from his femoral artery. The collecting pipette is tiny, and the wound will seal itself immediately. Your son is in no danger.”

The three men nodded, still fearful. None of them had experience with this, and didn’t entirely trust a woman who told them childbirth was ‘uncomfortable’ when they knew it was a good deal more intense than that. Still, they had to know who else had fathered this child besides Harry. 

Poppy ran a third wand, more familiar to Harry, over his abdomen, once, twice, three times. She frowned once or twice, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, evidently thinking better of it. She’d confirm her suspicions later. Paternity was more important just now. Finally satisfied, she began the exacting process of extracting blood from the fetus. 

A moment later, the procedure was over and the baby’s blood was set onto two glass plates. Harry was white faced and trembling, from tension and the small amount of pain the extraction had caused. Before completing the test, Poppy took the time to administer a pain reducing potion and an energy booster. Harry relaxed almost at once. 

Draco held his hand tightly, kissed him absently and stroked over his abdomen. His eyes never left the two plates with the child’s blood on them.

Poppy took his vial, and dropped three drops of blood onto one of the plates, setting it aside, so as not to mix them up. She murmured a spell and set the plate back down so the spell could take effect. She did the same thing with Severus’ vial and turned around to explain the procedure.

“If the spell shows the two blood samples to be biologically related, the plate will turn white and the blood will stay in the single pool it’s in now. If not, the plate will turn black, and the two samples will separate. It’s a very exact test; the most accurate and exacting spell the medical community has. It will only show direct blood ties from parents to children. Any other relationship would show as murky brown and the blood would streak.

They nodded. Draco and Severus stared at each other, both feeling vaguely confrontational and fearful in turn. Harry just closed his eyes and prayed. He wanted it to be Draco’s baby so badly he could taste it. An eternity later, there was a whoop of triumph from his fiancé. The plate with Draco’s blood on it had turned white. The blood was pooled nicely in the center. His normally reserved and self possessed beloved was laughing like a loon, relief and joy etched on his face. He whooped again and caught Harry’s lips in a fierce, tender kiss.

Draco patted Harry’s abdomen and said, firmly, “James, it’s Papa. I’m your Papa!” James obligingly rolled. Harry felt it and Draco did too, by the approving noise he made.

Both men finally remembered the third in the room and turned to him. He had not said a word. He was looking at the plate with his blood on it. It had turned black and there were two distinct circles of blood there. Harry went to speak and Severus held his hand up to stop him. His face was pale, features set in lines of sorrow.

“Please, let me get through this. I know I shouldn’t have, but I hoped…never mind. I knew all along that there was little chance this child would be mine. Still, there was a small chance. My time as a Death Eater was not kind to my physiology. Madame Pomfrey told me years ago that it was highly unlikely that I would be fertile enough to father a child. At the time, it seemed to be a benefit.”

He took a deep breath, containing his grief. “I am sorry if I caused either of you any undue distress. I…had to know. I couldn’t be certain, and neither could Poppy, so please do not blame her. She could not violate my privacy by explaining.”

The two young men nodded. They stared at each other for long moments, then turned to Severus again. Draco spoke for both of them. “Severus, please know that you are always welcome in our home. We hope that you’ll be able, at some point, to feel as though you’re part of our family.”

Severus stared, then finally nodded. “Someday, perhaps.” With that, he left, to nurse his grief. Once he was gone, the two fathers fell into each other’s arms, laughing their joy. Draco murmured, “Happy Birthday, love.”

Harry kissed him. In that kiss was everything he was too overcome to put into words. They’d talk, but later. Now was for rejoicing. They were getting married in two weeks’ time and their child was truly their child. At that moment, that was all that mattered.

TBC in Part Five  
Special Delivery


	5. Part Five - Special Delivery

Title: Special Delivery, part five, follows ‘Handle With Care’, ‘Contents Fragile’, ‘Do Not Open Until Yule’ and ‘Larger Than Life’.   
Pairing: HP/SS, HP/DM  
Warnings: language, sexual situations, slash of course, emotional trauma, angst, Mpreg   
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: Severus, in a moment of careless cruelty, destroys the one thing he’s always needed most. Can he get it back? Harry has moved on, and refuses all overtures. Draco and Harry concentrate on their relationship...then Harry is taken ill, suddenly. He’s quite surprised to learn of his condition, as are Draco and the others around them. Chaos ensues as our happy couple tries to plan their future together.

A/N: Oceans of gratitude to my writing partner, Laura – she’s as twisted as I am (that’s a compliment) and came up with some lovely plot devices to get this story where it wanted, and still wants madly, to go. She’s generally horrified by some of my ‘what ifs’ but always listens and makes suggestions that I find valuable. 

A/N the second: Thank you so much for the wonderful, thoughtful reviews that have come in response to this story. I really appreciate them; y’all have prompted me to develop this concept as fully as I can. I apologize for the delay between parts four and five...the muse was simply not in the mood to finish up.

Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re JKR’s. They should be mine. They want to be mine. However, they’re hers. I just have sordid rendezvouses with ‘em from time to time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Five  
Special Delivery

Harry alternately panted and cursed, hands fished on the bedrails. This was _not_ how he’d intended to spend his Yule. The morning had started so calmly. Now, he was wishing it would just be over with. Sweat ran down his pale face, burning his eyes, streaking his cheeks. Draco wiped it away with a cool wet cloth. It didn’t help much, but Harry appreciated the solicitousness of the gesture. 

Madam Pomfrey came into the room periodically to tell Harry how well he was doing, and how quickly the birth was progressing, as though eleven hours of excruciating pain could be construed as a speedy delivery. He’d fought epic, excruciating battles with Voldemort and his minions that were shorter than this birth process was, not to mention considerably less painful. He snorted weakly; The Boy Who Lived was going to be felled by the Contraction From Hell. Really, dueling Voldemort was a picnic compared to this.

Draco, poor man, paced and blanched every time Harry cursed his way through another contraction. They were five minutes apart now; Harry assumed that meant there was indeed a God, or a pantheon of them, and they would end his torture in due time after they were sufficiently amused. Another wave of cramping agony rippled through his abdomen; when it passed, he lay back weakly, breathing heavily. Draco was instantly by his side, kissing his forehead, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes, offering him ice chips. He took those gratefully, wishing only for this process to be over.

His voice lacked heat when he finally summoned up the strength to speak and fire a halfhearted glare at his husband. “You are never touching me again, Draco, I swear. I know we agreed to have more children. You’re just going to have to carry them; that’s all.”

Draco smiled patiently and kissed his long suffering husband on the cheek. “That would involve us touching, love. You’ll feel differently once they’re here safe and sound.”

Harry sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just…there has to be a better way to do this.” He closed his eyes, gathering what strength he could while he savored the four and a half minutes of relative peace he had left until the next wave of pain rolled over him. He had a hearty respect for Molly Weasley’s strength of character that he hadn’t quite understood before; she’d willingly gone through this process six times and still smiled at the memory. Harry hoped he could be that strong in years to come.

He knew that the process would be less taxing if there were only one child in his womb. A week after that fateful paternity test, Madam Pomfrey had called them in, saying only that she wanted to do another routine exam. Since that week had been so difficult for both of them to cope with, they didn’t attach any special significance to her request and entered the Infirmary as lambs to the slaughter.

She’d done a more detailed scan with an unfamiliar wand and hovered over Harry’s distended abdomen for more than a quarter hour before pulling back. The delighted smile on her face should have warned them of an impending shock, but again, they didn’t notice. A wave of the strange wand had a picture hovering in the air above the exam table. Madame Pomfrey, to her credit, didn’t say a word. She let them figure it out for themselves. 

Draco was the first to regain his voice. “Poppy, am I seeing what I think I am seeing?” He looked at Harry, who’d gone an alarming shade of green tinged white and was nodding.

Harry whispered, “There are two babies in there. I see two heads and four feet. It’s either twins or a two headed dog.” He began to laugh hysterically, the mingled fascination and horror plain in his voice. What on earth were they going to do with twins? 

“Congratulations, boys. You’re having twins. It looks to be two boys, but I can’t be sure as one of them is covering the other.” Poppy’s voice was warm and comforting, no nonsense and just the tiniest bit amused.

Harry and Draco stared at one another, saying nothing. Then Draco smiled. He stood and took Harry’s hands in his, caressing the knuckles lovingly. “I’m going to have to order duplicates of the nursery furniture we already have, love.”

Harry grinned at him. “I’ve always said you don’t do things by halves. This really wasn’t necessary to prove it, though.” With that simple conversation, everything was all right. Draco would take care of the necessary arrangements, and Harry would continue to gestate. He was getting good at it, if he did say so himself. 

Their friends and Harry’s relatives had been supportive, if highly amused by the new turn of events. Fred and George in particular, kept suggesting outrageous names, and carefully refrained from sending Harry anything that could be construed as dangerous. Draco was grateful that he didn’t have to worry about hunting them down for awhile. 

Draco enlarged the nursery and Harry was put on permanent bed rest soon after. He said later that if it hadn’t been for the constant stream of visitors and the books they brought him, he’d have gone mad in a matter of days. Being confined to their bedroom was, in a word, monotonous. Except when Draco was there, and they were making love, which they were able to do until nearly the end. Some of their positions were unique, but they managed with a great deal of passion and creativity.

Little Maggie Weasley proved to be a most diverting companion, and much gentler than Draco had originally envisioned. Harry told the little girl stories and delighted in watching Draco play her little girl games with her while he read books on child care. The two men were confident in their ability to take care of a small child after she’d visited several times.

They might not have been so shocked at the news that Harry was carrying twins had they not spent the week between the testing and the scanning worrying themselves sick over Snape. He’d retreated to his dungeons after leaving the Infirmary that day and hadn’t come out. Not for meals, not to take delivery of his precious potions ingredients, not when Albus demanded he attend staff meetings, not when Harry owled him to please come out so they could talk, not for anything. 

After five days, Draco had had quite enough of his godfather upsetting his fiancé. He’d gone down to the dungeons and pounded on the door to Snape’s private chambers for well over half an hour, demanding entrance. Finally, the door slid back silently and Draco advanced into the room, immediately closing the door behind him.

No one knew what had transpired that day in Snape’s dungeons or in the days previous when Snape had been left alone to brood. Harry supposed Draco knew, and of course Snape himself knew. Neither of them would speak of it. Harry had tentatively asked his husband about it once, shortly after they were married, and been rebuffed firmly. The look on his husband’s face was so deeply sorrowful that Harry had resolved to never mention it again. 

Snape had finally emerged, white faced, red eyed, and nearly mute, lines etched deeply into his forehead and between his nose and mouth. He looked easily ten years older than he had the week before. His casual maliciousness was gone when he finally began to interact with the rest of the staff again. 

They, in turn, gave him a wide, cautious berth until they truly looked at him. When they did, their collective hearts broke for his evident misery. Finally, Snape began to accept the tentative overtures of friendship they’d been offering him for so many years. He was a broken man, was Severus Snape, and those in closest proximity to him knew it. They never mentioned it, but they did their best to not leave him alone for several months. Finally, he began to recover a shadow of his former imposing persona. He was never again quite so careless with the feelings of others, though.

Harry knew that Draco had been gone for hours on the day he finally convinced Snape to emerge from his self imposed exile. Harry knew that Draco had placed a very large order for lab equipment and potions ingredients, none of which had come to the Manor. Harry knew that his husband was no longer angry at Snape; they’d resumed their former godfather and godson relationship determinedly. Snape was a regular visitor to the Manor and Harry was always cordial to him. They weren’t quite friendly yet, but they were getting there. Snape carefully never visited when Draco was absent. That was really all Harry needed to know.

The young man gritted his teeth as another wave of pain coursed through his already exhausted body. Merlin, but he wished these children would just get on with it! He was tired, their Papa was tired, Madame Pomfrey was tired. He was sure the children were tired too. As the contraction passed, Harry noted that it had only been three minutes this time. Progress, then; what a blessing.

Harry didn’t remember much of their wedding, but what he did remember gave him a warm glow inside. That had been the last social event he’d been allowed to attend before being confined to bed. Draco had been so handsome in his silvery robes, hair drawn back severely, his face grave with responsibility and suffused with love. Harry had felt like a baby whale in his own cream and gold robes, but Draco kissed him and told him he was devastatingly handsome. His girth didn’t seem to matter so much then, not when Draco was looking at him as though he were the sweetest confection to ever come out of Honeyduke’s. 

They’d had the ceremony indoors, in deference to Harry’s health. The Weasley women had decorated the chapel with fire roses and lovely green leafy plants. Soft wordless Celtic music was played in the background, and Harry had never been as happy, ever, as he was when they were standing before Minister Bones, reciting their vows. Harry had felt tears gathering in his eyes as he promised to love, honor and cherish this man for all time.

He’d chosen Ron and Hermione as his witnesses to their marriage vows, of course. Draco, to everyone’s surprise, had chosen Severus Snape, who accepted gratefully, and Blaise Zabini, his friend from school. Harry grew to quite like Blaise as the years passed, and he was a frequent guest in their home.

They’d decided after all to hyphenate their names and truly join their two houses together, so when Minister Bones introduced them to their guests, she did so with a flourish. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, Harry and Draco Potter-Malfoy.” They’d turned, glowing, to their friends and family, and kissed then, a long sweet moment of affirmation. Harry’d needed to sit down directly after that, so the inevitable receiving line had turned into a line of well wishers filing past the first pew to shower them with congratulations. 

“Harry? Can you hear me?” Harry opened his eyes blearily, peering at Madam Pomfrey.

“Yes. I’m fine, sorry. Just woolgathering.”

“I want you to get ready to push on the next contraction. They’re nearly here.” Harry smiled weakly at her and squeezed his husband’s hand. He began to think a Caesarean section wasn’t such a bad idea, for next time.

The weeks after their wedding and before the birth had been spent mostly together. They talked for hours, Draco spooning Harry in the center of their bed, one hand always on his burgeoning belly, caressing it absently. Draco had learned the value of delegation of business responsibilities; Harry had learned the value of depending on one’s spouse to take care of things. 

They’d forged a strong bond between them and were both more secure for it. Harry, for the first time in his life, was able to let go and let Draco take care of him, feeling loved beyond measure. Draco, for the first time in his life, felt needed, wanted and loved beyond measure. The sight of Harry’s face lit like a Yule tree every time Draco entered the room told him more clearly than any words could just how much he was loved.

Harry moaned softly as the next contraction hit. This pain was sharper than the others, almost tearing at his insides. Obediently, he followed Poppy’s instructions and bore down sharply. He felt intense pressure as he exerted himself to bring their first child into the world. Dear Gods, whoever said this was merely uncomfortable was out of their mind. This was pain unlike any other Harry had ever felt. 

Suddenly, the absence of pressure became a joy. He continued to bear down, exhausted as he was, and felt their son slip from his body with a twist and a wriggle. For a long frightening moment, he heard nothing, then finally the joyful noise reached his ears. Their son was crying. Poppy was holding him, Draco was bravely cutting the umbilical cord and sniffling a bit. Harry lay back and panted through his mouth as he’d been taught, regaining a bit of energy; he knew there was more work to be done yet. 

That morning had begun like any other. Harry woke first, and made his slow awkward way to the loo. By the time he was finished, nearly half an hour later, he had a backache to end all backaches. He said as much to Draco when he came back to bed. Harry had to laugh just a little; the sight of his husband going from deep slumber to panicked alertness was just too much to bear without a smirk. Draco was so adorable when he was being in charge.

They’d taken the floo to the Infirmary and Harry was just getting settled when the first real contraction hit him. He doubled over, crying out sharply. Madame Pomfrey told him that was perfectly normal and he’d glared at her. That had been eleven hours and a bit ago. Harry was tired. He wanted this process to be over and done with, so he could get to the interesting part. He wanted to see his children. 

He felt the second child sliding into place just as the next, hopefully the last, contraction rolled over him. He bore down firmly, restraining his urge to cry out. He didn’t want to make Draco drop the baby that was already here, after all. Draco was gently bathing their son, cooing at him and not paying attention at all when their daughter made her arrival. She was three and a half minutes later than her brother and James would lord it over her for the rest of their lives.

Harry felt her slip from his body and was amazed at how much better he felt. Draco was at his side then, holding their son securely in one arm while he severed the umbilical cord between Harry and their daughter. Well. That was a surprise. A son, they’d expected. Two sons, they’d been prepared for. A daughter…well, that was unexpected; delightful, but unexpected. Harry began to chuckle weakly as Draco handed him their son and simultaneously took their daughter from him, to give her the same bath her brother had just finished with. 

Poppy was there at the foot of the bed, coaxing the afterbirth out and observing closely to make sure the birth canal closed itself up. To Harry, that was the most embarrassing part of the birth process. It made him squirm to have Poppy so close to his delicate bits, professionalism be damned. 

Finally, Draco turned back from the bath, cradling their daughter gently. The look on his face was mingled wonder and fear, joy and gratitude, weariness and exultation. He leaned down and kissed Harry thoroughly, whispering, “Thank you, my love, for our beautiful children.” 

Then he kissed James’ soft cheek and whispered to him. The baby yawned and stretched but was otherwise unimpressed. Harry chuckled. “He’s tired, love, it’s been a long trip.”

By unspoken mutual agreement, they switched babies easily. Harry was looking down at their daughter’s scrunched up red face and pondering names when Draco spoke quietly.

“I’d rather not call her Lily, if you don’t mind. I was thinking along the lines of a classical name, perhaps?” Harry pondered that and agreed in theory. They discussed it for several moments, while Poppy busied herself changing linen and dressing the babies.

They wore identical nappies and tiny baby gowns of soft green. Already, Harry and Draco could see that their children had bright green eyes, and soft wisps of silvery blonde hair. Their red faces were identical at the moment. She placed a cap on each tiny head, pink for the girl and blue for the boy. Harry snorted at the incipient sexism, but didn’t object.

Thoughtfully, he said, “What do you think of Cassiopeia? We could call her Pia? I rather like that, it’s exotic.”

Draco said, “My mother’s middle name was Elizabeth. It’s a classic English name. What about Elizabeth Rose? After the fire roses I gave you.”

Harry thought a moment and smiled. “Done. It’s lovely.” They both took a moment to fill out the birth certificates Poppy had ready for them. When they were finished, they busied themselves with feeding the children their first bottles.

Once Poppy judged the new family settled and ready for visitors, she opened the doors to the Infirmary. Severus Snape was the first to enter the room, his face anxious. He looked around a moment, then smiled uncertainly as his gaze focused on Draco holding Elizabeth. He murmured softly, “A boy…and a girl? Congratulations.” He shook both the new fathers’ hands and stared intently into the small faces they each held. He took a moment to stroke each baby’s soft cheek briefly, a look of mingled pride, regret and muted happiness for them in his black eyes. He stepped back then, and made himself comfortable in a chair in the furthest corner of the room.

The room filled with Weasleys after that, all cooing at the little ones and firing off questions. Remus Lupin and Albus finally squeezed their way in catching glimpses of the babies through the throng. Draco and Harry obligingly held the children up so everyone could see them. The babies blinked and yawned, to the delight of all present.

A tearful Hermione, pregnant with twins herself, hugged Harry and kissed both babies, then looked at them expectantly. “Well. What have you got and what are their names?” She made a move to shush everyone so Harry wouldn’t have to repeat himself.

Harry grinned. “One of each. James Lucius and Elizabeth Rose.” Draco came to sit on the bed then, kissing his husband briefly. The two new parents accepted congratulations and hugs for a quarter hour before Poppy shooed them all out. 

Alone for the foreseeable future, Harry closed his eyes. He was more tired than the sleeping babies were, he knew it. He rested a moment, then stirred briefly as he felt his husband gently take their daughter from his arms. He settled her into the cot next to her brother, then climbed into bed with Harry, holding him close. 

Draco murmured into his neck, “I love you. Sleep now. I’ll watch over you and the children. You’re exhausted. Rest. They’ll need us soon, but not just now, I think.”

Harry yawned and curled himself around his husband. He murmured sleepily, “Love you, too, Draco.”

The last thought that slid through his tired mind was that he was truly the luckiest of men. Despite the pain and conflict, despite the unexpected pregnancy that had placed such a strain on their early relationship, despite everything, they’d managed to build a strong marriage and produce two perfect children in less than a year. Harry felt as though his entire life had been leading up to this moment of perfect peace, safe in the arms of his beloved, their children sleeping sweetly just inches away.

He knew there would be challenges in the years to come. He knew they would meet and solve them, together. He knew he could count on Draco to love him always. He trusted his husband completely and looked forward to spending the rest of his life with this delicious man who had stolen his heart and made him whole. They complemented each other so well, so completely that Harry couldn’t imagine his life any differently. He loved this man beyond all reason and vowed to cherish him forevermore.

He slid into sleep, a smile of pure contentment playing on his lips. Draco watched him tenderly, touching his cheek gently with one fingertip. When he was sure Harry was soundly asleep, he climbed out of the bed, and stood over his children, a look of such tenderness and awe on his face that Madame Pomfrey’s eyes misted over when she saw him. 

He leaned down, kissed the babies gently, and strode to that quiet corner of the room, out of sight of his husband’s bed. He looked somberly at the man sitting there, and said quietly, “Thank you.” Snape merely looked at him, a hint of self mockery evident in his eyes. 

No words were needed from him. Anything Snape could have said would have been inappropriate or inadequate, so he didn’t try. He simply inclined his head graciously and continued to watch the sleeping man he loved so much and could never have. He’d failed to appreciate the precious gift Harry had tried for so long to give him; he would pay the price for his callous disregard until the day he died.

Snape would always be there in the background, protecting Harry’s children, as he’d protected Harry when he was a child. Perhaps this time, he’d get it right, he thought to himself. Perhaps this time, he would be able to appreciate the opportunity he’d been given. Perhaps, someday, he’d be able to enjoy Harry’s friendship without the underlying sense of loss. It was all of Harry that was left to him, and his heart cried out in desolation. 

He’d made so many mistakes in his life, so many errors in judgment. This particular error, though, was the worst, because he felt it so deeply. Still, being a small part of Harry’s life now was better than having no part in it at all. He would learn to content himself with friendship, with being Draco’s godfather and a beloved uncle to the twins. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Epilogue – Eleven years later

Draco yelled up the stairs, exasperation clearly evident in his voice. “Come on, you two, you’ll be late. The train leaves at eleven o’clock sharp.”

Two blond whirling dervishes flew down the stairs a quarter hour later, their not quite identical faces flushed with excitement. “Sorry, Papa,” said a breathless Lizzy, “I forgot my diary.”

“Sorry, Papa,” said Jamie, “I couldn’t find my owl. She was hiding in the attic.” He pointed to the cage he was clutching.

Harry stood back, watching his eldest children with pride and a little sorrow. They were growing up so quickly. Lizzy was taller than Jamie, just a bit; already her body was softening from the lean angles of youth into the softer curves of adolescent girlhood. Her bright green eyes stood out in her pale face; her long silver waves were confined in two braids. Her chiseled features were relaxed with elation; she was finally going away to school. 

She caught sight of Harry beaming at her and threw herself at her Daddy, clutching his swollen middle, kissing him fiercely. “Oh, Daddy, I wish you could come with us. I’ll miss you.” She sniffled a bit, then moved away after patting her new brother or sister good bye. 

Jamie approached his Dad with more decorum, but no less enthusiasm. He kissed Harry’s cheek, hugged him carefully and patted the new baby. He said seriously, “You don’t have to worry, Dad. I’ll look after Lizzy.”

Harry laughed and ruffled his son’s silver hair. The boy was nearly as tall as Harry himself and already skilled on a broomstick, as both his parents were before him. “Who’s going to keep you out of mischief, young man?”

The young man in question grinned cheekily and stated, “Uncle Severus won’t let us get into too much trouble, Dad.” Harry looked his son over carefully. He looked a good deal more like Harry than Lizzy did; his features were rounded and full like the Potters rather than aristocratic like the Malfoys. His eyes were the same bright green as his Dad’s.

“I’m sure he won’t, son. Just don’t call him Uncle Severus during lessons, hmm?” The boy nodded and moved off. Now the twins had to say good bye to their siblings. The younger children stood in an envious line, each wishing they were old enough to go to Hogwarts like the idolized twins.

There was nine year old Jonathan, black haired and silver eyed, every inch a Malfoy, but dark haired and golden skinned. He was a genius at Potions and assorted explosions, and would lead his Uncle a merry chase when he got to Hogwarts, Harry thought with a sigh.

There was six year old Eileen, the only redhead in the family, with the silver eyes of her Papa and her Daddy’s love for reading. She was a quiet and serious child, with a dry sense of humor. Already, she was manifesting her magic, and showed signs of being a powerful witch someday.

Then the twins were kissing their baby brother, Joshua. He was three years old, a sunny child full of mischief. He was utterly fearless and caused his parents more worry than the other four children combined. His blond hair never grew longer than his collar and stuck up in all directions like his Daddy’s. His green eyes were large and round; he regarded the world with owlish seriousness punctuated by baby laughter.

The twins hugged and kissed them all, then hugged their Dad again. Finally, Draco kissed his husband, to the dismay of their brood, who pronounced them ‘sappy’. He led the twins away, calling out that he’d be back soon, with the Weasley parents in tow for lunch.

Harry sat himself down finally, taking Joshua on his knee and reflected that he was happier than he’d ever been. Each year brought new joys, new challenges and so much love he thought his heart would burst at times. He loved his husband more with each passing day, and found a thousand myriad ways to show Draco just how much he was loved. In turn, Draco showered him with love of equal strength. Their disagreements never lasted long; they’d both learned the best ways of dealing with one another and their children. 

Harry closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face. He knew lunch would be ready in an hour; there wasn’t anything he needed to do just then. The twins’ rooms were in order, the chaos cleared away once they’d finished packing that morning. The baby was on his lap resting. Jon and Eileen were in the garden playing; he could hear their laughter clearly from his comfortable perch in the sitting room. 

Ron and Hermione would be here soon with their three youngest girls; Maggie was a third year now, and their twins, Felicity and Gaia, would be first year students. He knew his friends would be more than ready for a peaceful afternoon by the time the train pulled out. He hoped the staff of Hogwarts was ready for the onslaught of Weasleys and Potter-Malfoys. He suspected Severus would warn the other teachers about them and he grinned to himself.

He’d never imagined Severus could become such a good friend to him and Draco, nor become so beloved of the twins. All the children loved him, really, but Jamie and Lizzy adored him; he kept Chocolate Frogs in his pockets for them and was always willing to spend time with them, telling stories, showing them simple potions, or helping them study whatever it was that had caught their interest that week. 

When Severus had begun dating again a year ago, Harry worried that he’d fall into the same patterns of behavior that had ruined their relationship so long ago. His fears had proved groundless and Harry had never seen Severus so happy. Severus had approached him for one of their rare private talks, and asked him for advice before he’d pursued any relationship. Surprisingly, he’d taken Harry’s comments to heart and proceeded cautiously.

Draco hadn’t liked that private talk much, but he handled it rather well; after twelve years of marriage, he’d lost his jealousy, but was still extremely protective of his husband. He’d offered his own advice to Severus and things seemed to be going well for his godfather, for now. It had given Draco a turn to realize how much Severus’ companion looked like Harry, but he’d learned to ignore that fact, as Harry did so blandly. It didn’t signify, really. The young man wasn’t really all that young, only ten years or so younger than Severus, and his personality was nothing like Harry’s. 

Harry made a mental note to himself to invite them both for dinner as soon as the pressures of the beginning school year abated somewhat. The door banged and the baby woke up, climbing off Harry’s lap to greet his de facto cousins and throw his arms around his Papa. Harry rose carefully to greet them with hugs and kisses, saving the best for last.

He slid his arms around Draco’s waist, kissing him gently and murmuring, “I love you.”

Draco smiled at him, stroked his hair and his protruding tummy. “I love you too.”

They turned to laugh at the antics of the children and made their way to the dining room for lunch.

The End


End file.
